The Neighbor's Secret 2: Spring Cleaning

Chapter 2 - Spring Cleaning


I was hot, and sweaty, and smelly, and sticky, and really really trapped.

And I loved it.

Shelly had caught me in her trashcan the night before, and said if I stayed until morning, I was stuck. She kept true to her word, and now I was locked in here and had a bunch of heavy bags on top of and around me. There was still a bit of room in her big can, but with the lid locked shut and my collar locked to the side of the can, there wasn't very far for me to go anyway.

I shifted about a bit. It had been a few hours since Shelly locked me in, and I was getting a little sore. I managed to shift over to my side and curl up fetal style and got quite comfortable again. Thankfully this trash was mostly soft and squishy.

I was a mess. Drool had been running around my gag for ages, and I was covered in something slippery and wet. There were also some bodily functions that I'd had to take care of as well, but thankfully they were a bit out of sight and out of mind, buried as I was in the plastic bags, and I'd gotten quite used to the smell of old food and sweaty, gross boy in here with me. I imagined anyone who opened the lid at this point might have a different opinion. I laughed to myself that I'd created a "bog of eternal stench" all my own. Thank god I didn't have any urge to go number two!

The slippery sheen that covered me and the plastic that squeezed into me just keep getting me hard, and I was stroking myself languidly when I heard the screen door open and slam again.

There was the sound of a key in the lock that kept me prisoner here. Well, one of the locks anyway, even with the lid open, I was still trapped by the chain at my collar, and the garbage itself was starting to pin me in pretty well.

With a "whump!" I felt a heavy new weight on top of me, pretty much ensuring that even unlocked it would now be tricky to get out of here.

"Spring cleaning, I'm finally getting rid of some of this old junk before company comes tonight"

With that, the lid slammed shut, and I heard her press it down and lock it again.

Company? She was having company? I don't know about this - getting caught in here by someone who doesn't get my kink is not exactly my idea of fun. I squirmed a bit and managed to get my hands up to my collar. I felt around it, tugged and pulled, but there was no getting out of it without something to cut it with. I was really stuck, and I didn't want to be. As soon as that thought hit the reptile part of my brain, any desire to get unstuck was banished, and I was so caught up in getting myself off that I barely registered when the can opened again, this time to let in a huge bag that Shelly had to squish down with the lid to lock. I could barely move and when I came, I kicked and bucked and thrashed like a madman, but I think I only moved about a centimeter.

Once again, the adrenaline of peaking meant a quick flood of "what the hell am I doing here." This time, I'd slept enough, however, so instead of drifting into a happy, warm, trashy sleep, I began to really want out.

My jaw was aching, and I it was really hard to move now, and my neck was tweaked a little.

Shelly came back with yet another bag to pile on top, and I mewled a bit as she opened the lid.

"Oh, is the trash getting tired of it's game?" She asked.

"Mmm hmm" I grunted.

"Okay, let's get some of that trash off you."

I heaved a sigh of relief, and as the top three bags were removed, I was able to flex and stretch muscles that sorely needed it.

Suddenly, I heard a "bzz-ching-ching-ching" and before I realized what was happening, I felt my collar tug my head towards the side of the can, and I bumped my head. I went to sit up, but the chain held fast. My loose tether was now a strict lock to the side of the can. So much for moving and stretching.

"You know, I was impressed until this point, but I should have known that trash can't remember rules. I said if trash tries to get out before it's time, I'll have to make sure it's nice and secure. Now you'll stay just like that until I'm ready to let you out."

I was amazed. How the hell could I be this hard again already?

Shelly looked into the can and grinned a toothy, dangerous grin at me. I must have looked a sight, sweaty and matted and half-covered in trashbags up to my chest, but she looked at me with a kinky lust plain in her eyes.

"Now that you can't turn your head away towards the airholes, we'll have to make sure you've got some air in there."

She slammed the lid and disappeared momentarily. When she returned she had a black rubber full-head gasmask that she pulled on my head right over my gag. I'd worn this hood many times before and knew that it would definitely keep me in fresh air as long as it led outside the can.

I also knew the thing was airtight.

As if on queue, Shelly had gotten the airhose hooked into one of the bigger holes she'd drilled and promptly closed it off. I began to struggle for air and was now throbbing painfully. Bags rained down on top of me once more, this time pinning my back to the side of the can, and pressing the gasmask against my face even as I tried desperately to breathe air that wasn't coming.

I was really struggling now, and Shelly was packing that top garbage bag back on and clamping the lid shut. Only after I heard the thud of the lock did she open my airhose again, and I gasped through the hood.

The next few hours were a blur, but I'd managed to resist the urge to go over the edge and out of subspace. Shelly came out a few times to pack yet more trash in and play with my breathing hose here and there.

Finally, I felt her open the lid and heard her talk to me.

"Well, this is a no-return point. Company will be here in 15 minutes, and there's no way I can get you out, cleaned up and hidden or out of here before then, so you're officially my trash for the rest of the night. You'd better not make a sound unless you want to be found out for the trash you really are."

She paused, and I could feel her pressing and bumping against the can.

"oh... Oh... Okay, trash. Here's.." She panted.. "Here's my rules. You're mine until garbage collection. I put the can out to the curb Sunday night, so I'll let you out before then." She panted again, and I felt the side of the can bump. "Oooh. Oh. I'll let you out then if you're good, that is.. Oooooh"

Shelly continued to moan, and I felt the airhose go shut once more.

"Trash breathes when I tell it it can" She moaned, and then moaned louder again until she came to a crescendo and I heard her clamp her hand over her mouth as she screamed in orgasm. She seemed to go on and on, and my air had long since run out. I was now thrashing trying to get my hands up, made trickier by the fact that I was also moments away from cuming myself, and couldn't seem to get my hands to do anything more useful than what they were currently occupied doing.

Finally, fresh air hissed into the hose and I drank it into my lungs in great heaves.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Shit. They're early. Well, now you're really stuck!" She said, and I felt the lid press down on me and the trash once more, locking in place.

Squished in as I was, I couldn't quite get enough movement to bring myself off, and frustrated, I played with myself idly as time went by.

After a few hours, I heard someone say something like, "Be a doll and bring this down to the garbage can?" and then footsteps and the screen door again.

"Huh, I wonder why she locks this?" I heard a male voice say. I sat motionless, terrified of being discovered. Little did I know that I was all but invisible, buried deep in trashbags. The only visible weirdness was the lock on the can and the air holes in the back, well obscured from casual view.

"She said something about raccoons, and that it was really full." a female voice said.

I felt the lid open, and then something unexpected. The pressure all around me built up as if the trash was a balloon inflating, trapping me against the side of the can. The guy stuffing the trash in was pushing this new bag in and down wherever he could, and the trash in here with me already was now completely mashed into me.

"Here, help me with this," he said as he squeezed the lid down. Even more pressure built up, and then I heard that familiar "click thud" of the lock shutting. I couldn't move at all.

Thankfully, there was no more trash, although I did hear a few people walk through the garage in various states of drunkness and felt one bump into my can and play with the lock, dropping it against the can. It was a girl and a guy, and I could hear them flirting, as she leaned against the can and played with my lock.

"So what's with the locked trashcan? That thing's huge!"

"I don't know. Maybe that's where she keeps the bodies!" the guy said, and they both laughed.

"Well, knowing Shelly, I wouldn't put it past her." they laughed again, and I felt a bump and then my can tilted a little. I think they were actually making out right there against the trash can I was in, with no idea.

After a while they started talking again, and the conversation turned to sex, as it often does. Strangely enough, it soon turned to bondage and the girl admitted to enjoying being tied up or even put in a cage.

"Well, I don't know about a cage, but there's this can here"

"Ew gross, it's probably all stinky in there!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! Here I was locked in the thing and they were talking about playing in it themselves!

"Well, it does have a lock on it - who knows, there could be someone in there right now." They laughed again at the absurdity of the thought.

I just sat there thinking, "if they only knew!"

Someone called to them and they disappeared, and I was left to my own devices. I drifted off a bit, but woke with a start as I needed to move badly now and everything was sore.

It's hard to tell time when you're just part of the trash, but presumably a few hours later I felt my lid open, and then some of the pressure around me eased.

"So, how's it feel to be used as trash by strangers?"

"Mmmm" I said. I was sore, but this had still been amazing

More bags came out until I was once again half covered, and I felt the chain at my neck go slack, but not totally released.

"So, I have a proposition for you," Shelly said. I looked up at her through the lenses of the mask.

"I can let you out tonight, and you can sneak home and clean yourself up, but that's that for this weekend... But here's the thing. I still can't get over how sexy I find owning you as my trash, and I want you to stay. I'll leave you with some room and comfy in there, and I promise I'll reward you beyond your wildest dreams tomorrow if you stay as my trash tonight. What do you say?... One grunt to get out, two to stay."

I didn't know what I wanted. I grunted once and looked up at her. She was expectant and starting to look crestfallen. Once again hearing Shelly talk about owning me and that I was her trash had turned on that wonderfully stupid part of my brain. I grunted a second time, and she squealed!

"Ohh! I knew it you little trash-slut. You just can't get enough, can you? You're the best." She reached in and pulled off the hood which had gotten stifling and hot. With her copy of my key, she undid the gag I'd been wearing for far too long with an admonition that trash doesn't speak, "unless it wants to be packed in again for real".

After drinking a bunch of gatorade she offered, I stretched my jaw and curled up among the soft bags, and felt one big, warm squishy one land back on top of me.

"Well, I'm going to go sleep off this party and dream of you being my trash down here. A girl could get used to this. Wait til' you see what I've got cooked up for my trash tomorrow. I promise it'll be worth it!"

I didn't dare speak to tell her that it already was. She closed the lid, pressed it down, and locked it for the last time that night.

"g'night trash."


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Did you like chapter 2? Let me know at lckdnrbbr@hotmail.com, and let me know what you'd like in part 3.
 Here's a rough outline of the rest of the story
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Chapter three - lazy sunday

Possible Sequel:  a weeks vacation ?

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31.03.08