Author Topic: Life In A Dustbin - Part 3  (Read 3802 times)

PolytheneWrappedMe

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Life In A Dustbin - Part 3
« on: August 29, 2018, 01:25:57 pm »
Dear All,

Please find Part 3 to this story. I hope you enjoy.

Life In A Dustbin - Part 3 (The trash compactor)
Solo-m, magic, transform m2object, FF/m, bagged, dumped, collected, compactor, compressed, rescue, MF/m, hogtie, gag, machine, wrap, left, transform, m2object, recycle plant, shred, melt, delivered, used, wheelie bin, garbage truck, landfill.  Cons/NC  X


Kate was very pleased that she could live out her dominating fantasies of throwing me away and I enjoyed being thrown away. It seemed the perfect partnership. Perhaps, with hindsight, a tad too perfect.

"I really enjoyed watching my wheelie bin being emptied, with you stuck helplessly inside, as I fingered myself like crazy. It made me so hot dreaming of you screaming and just being treated as my trash" said Kate. A tad too convincingly for my liking. I started to worry.

"Why are you worried ?" asked a genuinely confused Kate "I thought that is what you wanted".

She had a point, I suppose.

"It is just selfish of you not to allow me to enjoy dumping you, but it is okay for you to enjoy being dumped". Kate whinged.

"So I have decided if I am taking your trash disposal to the next level, I might had to buy some more spells off that witch you contacted on the Internet" Kate continued "I was thinking of a transformation spell so you could actually BE trash and that way no one would see a miniatured human body inside my bag of bathroom waste."

"The next level ?" I asked.

"Yes. You going inside a working trash compactor or garbage truck !" Kate replied.

"But I don't think the dustmen will see me in the hopper, if I am small enough and bagged with your trash." I said contradicting her.

"I am not sure I want to take that chance. You might move or scream. You still get life imprisonment for attempted murder." Kate reasoned.

So a date was fixed with the witch.

"A transformation spell ?" asked the witch "You do know that is the most expensive kind of spell, it is very complicated you know !  Male to female transformation, I suppose ?"

"No. Male to object" replied Kate correcting the witch. "And he has to be able to feel living as the object".

"What object ?" asked the witch.

"Any object" replied Kate "a shiny black polythene garbage bag, my female sanitary pad, my tampon, my dildo".  Kate laughed. 

She was really enjoying the humiliation she was putting me through, as I cringed as the witch gasped at every suggestion she made.

"Well I have come across some kinks in my 600 years on earth, but none like this !" said the witch. "You do know that once his is an object, he will be totally at your mercy, and be unable to move a muscle ? And if he is damaged whilst living as an object, he won't be able to transform back."

"That is exactly what I want !" said Kate beaming.

Here was me thinking it was my fantasy !

"It will cost you dearly" continued the witch, turning to look directly at me "Perhaps more than you are willing to pay, David".

"We have lots of money" said Kate.

"I was not referring to your money" replied the witch, sinisterly.

Her words sent a shiver down my spine.

Kate handed over a large pile of money.

"Its your funeral David", the witch laughed and disappeared.

We returned home.

I told Kate I wanted to practice being an object. But I was unsure I trusted her. Perhaps it was better to be someone else's property, and they did not know it was me ?  And unaware 'owner' would treat me was their belonging, with no favouritism (and no hidden agenda).

Kate was not impressed. "I want to use you, not someone else. Are you two-timing me with another ?"

I spent many hours trying to reassure her.

We went to the local restaurant.

Kate whispered to me "You could be anything. You could be my food and I could eat you and digest you. You could be my leftovers and they will scraped into a bin !  You could be my plate and I could lick you, before the waitress takes you to the dishwasher and loads you inside !"

Kate's love tunnel was getting moist at the suggestions and watching me squirm.

The evening ended and we went to bed.

"You could be my sheets and I could lay on you, and wash you inside my washing machine or take you to the laundrette and let someone else wash you". Kate purred.

At least it was my choice what I turned myself into, I thought as she laid there next to me, finally snoring her head off and dreaming kinky dreams.

The next morning, she got showered and dressed. "You could be my clothes and I could wear you. I fancy wearing a tight thong today. Interested ?" said Kate, still teasing me.

At the weekend, we were booked to go and visit her mother.

I insisted that Kate did not mention anything, claiming that I was too embarrassed to discuss it in front of her mom.

Kate agreed to be silent, but only if I let her use me soon.

After lunch, the three of us (me, Kate and Kate's mom) sat in the lounge chatting and watching telly.

"So how did the two of you meet ?" inquired her mom.

I just prayed Kate would not mention Peter Pugger !

"Oh at pottery, mom" Kate said.

"I thought you worked at a girls college" said her mom. (There was clearly nothing wrong with her little grey cells despite her age.)

"Oh he met me there after work", Kate added. "It was a blind date, set up by Ruth".

"Well he is very nice" said Kate's mom, "if only I was 30 years younger."

I blushed as Kate's mom flirted with me.

"Well you might be in luck, he likes more mature women !" Kate teased back.

It was nice that her mom and I clicked straight away. For a cougar, Kate's mom was very young looking and fit, and I got the impression she was serious about the flirt.

As Kate's mom lived some way away, so Kate and I had planned to stay a few days.

That night, I could not sleep. Partly worried about Kate, partly aroused my her mom.

I got up and crept to the kitchen, for a glass of water.

While I was there, I sneaked a look inside her mom's kitchen trash bin. I saw its nice white polythene liner, and loads of tissues, cartons, and waste food inside.

Kate's mom had heard me creep about, and she came downstairs and watched me. Before entering the kitchen.

"What are you doing David ?" she asked.

"Oh just getting a glass of water. I am having trouble sleeping." I said.

Kate's mom walked over to me and pressed her body up against mine, as she squashed me up against the wall.

"Well Kate won't be waking, I slipped some sleeping pills into her food" her mom chuckled.

"Why ?"  I asked.

"So I could spend time getting to know you." she replied, as her hands started wandering up my body. "Oh you have strong muscles" she said as she grabbed my cock.

"You know it has been really lonely since Kate's father died" her mom continued. "Kate is very much like me, she likes her men to be submissive. Tell me what kinks are you into ?"

"Kinks ?" I replied, pretending I knew nothing of what Kate's mom was saying.

"Yes, kinks. Kate always uses them to keep a hold on her men" Kate's mom replied.

"I am sorry Mrs Henderson, I don't know what you mean." I protested.

"Sure you do, honey" said Kate's mom as she grabbed my cock again. "Why were you looking in my trash bin ?"

Kate's mom grabbed my hand and led me outside to the wheelie bins in her side yard.

"If you like having a look inside bins, honey, knock yourself out. I have three wheelie bins." Kate's mom continued. As she walked me to each wheelie bin, so she lifted the lid of each bin, one at a time, as if to let me get a good look inside.

"This black bin is for bagged general waste. This green bin is for recyclables, mainly paper, cardboard and plastic bottles. This brown bin is for my garden waste. There happy now ?" Kate's mom teased.

She then pushed me up against her wheelie bins, dropped my trousers and proceeded to wank me hard. "Push this [cock] inside me, and do me right here next to my wheelie bins, or I'll get you in trouble with Kate" her mom said. So I took Kate's mom, and laid her on the grass, next to the wheelie bins, and pumped her hard. All the while, looking at her wheelie bins, and imagining Kate putting me inside one of them, if she ever found out.

Kate's mom was a skillful lover. With age came experience, obviously.

Afterwards, Kate mom and I chatted, as it was still the small hours late at night.

"My friend Catherine is a witch and she told me that you and Kate had asked her for some strange spells" Kate's mom announced, revealing that she knew all about my wishes.

I looked shocked at being found out.

"Its a small town honey, people talk !" Kate's mom continued "Catherine instantly recognised Kate, but I don't think Kate remembered meeting her, for she was only a small girl. It was round about the time Kate's father had that 'accident', or at least that is what the police called it.  It was the first time, we noticed Kate's mean streak.

"Her father had also asked for a transformation spell, only he wanted to be a woman. Kate had stumbled upon him, as her, and shot him with his own gun, thinking he was an intruder in the house. It was all very tragic. As he was killed in his transformed state, he never changed back, so thankfully Kate does not know. We told the police "she" (her father) had broken in, and Kate had fired the gun out of fright. She was too young to press charges, and she received many years of counselling, for obviously her father "disappeared" at the same time.  The police thought it was because he could not come to terms with his daughter shooting someone. But actually the woman and him were one and the same person."  Kate's mom told me.

"How awful !" I said.

"The morale of the story is, be careful, what you transform into" advised Kate's mom.

Over the next days and weeks, Kate's mom and I became rather close. It was as if she had finally told someone the nightmare of a secret and it had freed her at last.

I called round to Kate's mom, one day, having told Kate I was away on business.

"So David, what do you want to be ?" quizzed Kate's mom.

I looked around her kitchen for inspiration. I saw a bundle of folded shiny black garbage bags, and got another erection. But I said nothing.

---

Kate and I then took a long train journey to visit her uncle, who was a arable farmer, way out in the country.

Every so often during the train journey, a young female carriage cleaner came down each of the eight carriages of our train, dragging a large clear and colourless polythene bag bulging with trash. She wore blue latex gloves to protect her hands from the filth and dirt of her job, and the trash bag she manoeuvred down the carriage aisle between the rows of seats, was so large and heavy, she was forced to drag it behind her, along the floor of the carriage. The clear polythene, it was made of, was obviously tear resistant to withstand being dragged over rough surfaces and to prevent her from getting scratched by any sharp objects that the passengers discarded. Perhaps it was even strong enough to survive staying intact during the operation of the station's waste compactor ?

"Rubbish. Any rubbish ?" she called as she dragged her polythene bag down the aisle of the train carriage, and train passengers handed her their trash which she dropped into the bag, with her latex gloved hands. The occasional drink can. The occasional food container. But mostly she was offered discarded newspapers and magazines. Nothing too smelly.

On a long journey, such as this, I noticed several bags of waste were collected. Each large clear polythene bag, being gently tied up, when full by her latex gloved hands.

Kate guessing my thoughts, said "Go on, transform into something, and I will throw you away."

So I arranged that I would go to the train toilet, undress, and once nude, transform into an object, and leave my clothes there. Kate would being waiting outside, and would collect me, and my clothes (which she would place inside a bag, and take to her uncle's farm.)

As her uncle's farm was the last destination of the train's route, the train's waste would be unloaded at the station, and dumped. Kate's job was to rescue me, once I had been thrown away.

I felt her hand me to the young lass wearing her blue latex gloves, and was merely dropped inside the bag with the rest of the trash.

Each time she collected more trash, so I was buried deep and deeper. The weight of the trash above pressing down on me.

The train cleaner then tied up the bag, when it was full. She had no idea I was trapped inside, ready to be disposed of with her trash.

She took me and several other bags of waste to the station's waste compactor, and I was loaded inside.

As soon as the compactor's ram started to push me into the container, so I transformed back, and enjoyed lots of squashing !

It took many hours to quieten down, before Kate could try to rescue me.

So I lay there inside the clear polythene bag, inside the container of the trash compactor; while more and more bags were loaded inside and I was crushed again and again.

I felt so discarded. No one knew, or seem to care, what they were doing to me. To them, I was just trash, to be squashed ever smaller, to make room for more trash to join me.

Occasionally I heard the female staff chat as they dumped their bags of trash. They were totally unware I was inside the compactor and each time they activated the ram, so I was just squashed ever tighter. I loved the way I had no control over what they did to me. I was just trash.

I got buried deeper and deeper inside the container. Whilst I enjoyed masturbating listening to the ram being activated and the crushing sensation as the bags were forced together, with me stuck in the middle. The longer I was there, I did wonder whether Kate would rescue me, before the container was collected and I would be disposed of.

After most people had gone home, Kate returned to rescue me.

It had taken Kate much effort to rescue me, and she was not happy crawling through bags of trash until she found me.

---

During the train journey earlier, Kate and I had noticed several farms had baled their hay into large round bales, and some had already wrapped them in that black polythene wrap that farmers use. We discussed the fact I would like to be polythene wrapped, but Kate knew her uncle would not be willing to put me through the dangerous farm machinery, unless severely provoked !

So Kate made up the story that I had taken advantage of her, sexually. When her uncle heard, his first reaction was to get his shotgun. But quick-thinking Kate persuaded him that as she had been the victim, she was to chose my ending.

The next I knew, I was stripped naked, and my feet tied together. Then my wrists were tied together. Then a rope was tied from my hands to my feet. Finally I was led outside to a field, and laid across the circumference of a 6ft round hay bale that had already been previously wrapped in black polythene wrapping several times. Then the rope was pulled under the bale, such that my hands were pulled above my head and around the wrapped hay bale, and my feet pulled in the opposite direction, like a person on a medieval rack to be stretched. Only I was being tied most securely the edge of the polythene wrapped hay bale. This caused my face, chest, stomach, penis, and front of my thighs, shins and feet to be pressed against the black polythene wrapped hay bale most snugly.

Then Kate stuffed her used knickers into my mouth to form a gag, and my mouth was taped shut. Finally, Kate pulled out a tampon, and used its applicator to insert the damn thing into my bum crack.

Finally, her uncle manoeuvred the hay bale back onto the wrapping platform, and started the farming machinery once more !

Slowly the black polythene wrap was pulled tightly across all the surfaces of the hay bale and its stuck occupant. As the machine carried out its programming to dozens of extra layers of black polythene wrap, so I felt the shiny plastic cover my feet and ankles with one pass of the robotic machine. Then the backs of my legs were covered.

I tried to pretend to scream, to play the part of someone, who was not supposed to enjoy his fate, and I tried to move my head and thrash about.

All the while, my hard cock was sliding against the polythene underneath me.

"It is no point you struggling lad" said her uncle "There is no escape".

Kate watched on, as I received my "punishment", and she was getting very wet, watching me struggle. She thought to herself "David is playing this part so well. He actually looks genuinely destressed."

Her uncle's farm machinery continued wrapping the hay bale and me.

In seconds, my bum was wrapped under a layer of polythene, and as the machine pulled the plastic taunt, so I was forced harder against the wrapped bale underneath me, and the pressure pushed my cock deep into the polythene, but the polythene did not rip.

Next my back was covered, as her uncle and Kate, watched me disappear under the black polythene wrapping.

Once my head was covered, it continued to cover my arms that were strung up above my head, and tied to my feet, on the other side of the hay bale.

Under one layer of polythene, it was still possible to distinguish light from shade. But that was soon to change, as I was wrapped again and again under dozens of layers. I was not indistinguishable from other hay bales, only larger.

"I don't think he will ever hurt you again Kate. He would have suffocated by now." said her uncle.

Of course, Kate and I knew I did not need to breathe to stay alive, but I stayed motionless to play the part.

Kate and her uncle went back inside, content that they had made a good job of disposing of me. No one would notice me stuck inside  a double wrapped hay bale, between two multi-layers of polythene wrap.

Out of sight, I was now able to wank and enjoy myself, recalling my day so far.

The next day, some labourers moved my bale to a haystack and I was loaded inside. The hay was destined to mulch down in 12 months, to feed cattle. The polythene wrapping would be taken to be recycled and melted down. The only question remained, would I chose to be animal feed or manufactured into garbage bags. I think you all know the answer !

For days, weeks and months, I stayed snug between the layers of shiny black polythene wrap. I had even managed to miniaturise, to escape the rope ties on my hands and feet; however, in I was forced to swallow Kate's used knickers, that she had used as my gag, or it could have choked me. I was not so fortunate with the tampon in my arse. In order to shrink to free myself from the ropes, my bum had shrunk too, and my arse was ripped my the tampon. Ouch. Once my hands were free, I was able to remove it, however.

As I did not want to be turned into silage and fed to the farm animals, and I liked the black polythene, I used my transformation spell to become the bale's plastic wrapping.

There I stayed, until her uncle ripped me open !

I was now trapped permanently as polythene wrap. Her uncle removed me from the silage inside me, and I was taken with other plastic wrapping to a recycle plant.  I laid in horror and disbelief as a series of machines and conveyors, shredded me, and melted me, before forming me into a garbage bag. As the witch's spell allowed me to feel everything, all I felt was immense pain, but death never came, as objects don't die as such.

The council delivered me to Mrs Henderson, and Kate's mom kept me inside a pile of garbage sacks, just like the ones I had admired on my last visit to her.

Kate even visited her mom on that fateful day.

"What ever happened to that nice lad David ?" asked Kate's mom, as she picked me up and fed me a bag of kitchen waste and a bag of bathroom waste, and grabbed hold of my 'neck' before tying me up.

"I don't know" replied Kate, only partly lying, for the last see knew I was wrapped with a wrapped hay bale.

Mrs Henderson then dropped me into her wheelie bin. The same black wheelie bin, I had laid next to, whilst pumping her hard. Now she was disposing of me, and Kate was watching.

Days later, Kate's mom wheeled me and the trash to kerb. The wheelie bin was upended, and I fell into the garbage truck.

I was crushed for several hours inside the truck, with the rest of the council's waste, before I was unloaded at a landfill site and I was buried alive.

There I stay. It might take a long time for plastic to degrade, but I was degraded long before that !
« Last Edit: August 29, 2018, 01:34:46 pm by PolytheneWrappedMe »

Offline Jennifer52

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Re: Life In A Dustbin - Part 3
« Reply #1 on: August 30, 2018, 06:52:34 am »
Excellent part 3! Thank you! Really enjoyed reading this :)

PolytheneWrappedMe

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Re: Life In A Dustbin - Part 3
« Reply #2 on: August 30, 2018, 07:30:40 pm »
Hi Jen,

Thanks for your lovely comments. I am delighted that you enjoyed it. Thanks for taking the time out to say so.

Regards,

PWM

Offline DumpsterLife

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Re: Life In A Dustbin - Part 3
« Reply #3 on: September 05, 2018, 12:07:00 am »
Liking the stories PWM. It does sound highly enjoyable to be compacted while female cleaners load more in unaware of you there! And the thought of Kate having to dig through the trash to find you. An unfortunate end for David but I like how you worked it back to Mrs Henderson placing him into the wheelie bin as a garbage bag.

PolytheneWrappedMe

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Re: Life In A Dustbin - Part 3
« Reply #4 on: September 05, 2018, 10:05:56 am »
Hi DumpsterLife,

Many thanks for your kind words of appreciation and I am delighted that you enjoy my stories.

As readers can probably tell by now, I enjoy the thought of being dumped, bagged, even compacted, especially if the trasher is female and does not know. Being trash is not personal. You just get rid of what you no longer want (unless it is vengeful).

I like a transformation element too. Sure a submissive slave can obey, but an object really has no choice over its future, and most things we own, get thrown away eventually. So if you are an object, you are going to meet the garbage truck sooner or later. Yippee !

PWM

DumpsterSlut

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Re: Life In A Dustbin - Part 3
« Reply #5 on: September 06, 2018, 01:57:14 am »
So it turns out, I've had a number of "hay bale" fantasies over the years. Combining it with trash, though? Suffice it to say that I enjoyed that last segment especially much. Thank you!

PolytheneWrappedMe

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Re: Life In A Dustbin - Part 3
« Reply #6 on: September 06, 2018, 09:46:06 am »
Hi DumpsterSlut,

Nice to hear that I am not alone in having hay bale fantasies. I think it combines Machine fantasy, and if the bale is wrapped, some elements of Bound or Packaged fantasies. As you can guess from the name, I have some polythene fetish too, and, for me, this combines all three ideas. A hay bale wrapped in shiny black polythene is not unlike a giant trash bag LOL.

I am delighted that you enjoyed this. Thanks for kindly writing to say so, and posting nice feedback.

Although Gromet helpfully has designed the Plaza with story categories, there is no rule that says stories cannot overlap more than one fetish. I, for one, actually like several story categories; although I appreciate a lot of the audience prefer to stick to the one category they like, or feel comfortable reading. "Oh, I could never read trashcan stories. Yuck."  That sort of thing. LOL.

If you like this style of story, I will try to write it more often.

PWM

 

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