Sacked

SACKED.

This story of loneliness, depravity and sexual desire begins on a warm summer Sunday, at approximately two-thirty pm. I, as is my normal choice of activity for a Sunday am sitting outside on the patio, looking down the length of our garden towards the trees and the concealed slave quarters, relaxing. The house has only one client presently, he is currently being dealt with suitably and will not require my personal attention for sometime.

Mai walks around the corner from my left with a look of glee on her face, (for those that have not read my diary, Mai is front of house, she interviews new clients and if she approves them she forwards their details to me, she also does not like touching clients in anyway).

When Mai looks like she is currently looking, I know that something outrageous is tickling her fancy; I am to be proven right. An hour late everything is arranged for the arrival of a new client, she will be staying for as long as Mai decides, up to three days I am informed, three very long days for her I imagine.

Monday morning I watch Mai struggling to wheel one of our large yellow wheeled bins around to the back of the kitchen. Satisfied she applies the wheel brakes and lifts the large lid. I notice that a hasp has been screwed through the plastic lid which can now be padlocked shut. With a slight smile and a nod to Mai I return to a client in the dungeons.

My bleeper sounds exactly at two pm; Mai is requesting that I attend. Leaving my current slave tightly bound and slowly rotating on the wheel I walk the short distance to Mai’s office, with total disregard for Mai’s feelings and need for order, I sit on her desk edge, looking down at the naked, kneeling young woman, which Mai (as agreed) wants to introduce to me.

I always like the feeling of looking down on a slave whilst understanding their wants and needs clearly, but this young woman puzzles even me, not that I am shocked by her desires, I have encountered many different pathways to satisfaction, but really because I can not help wondering how one so pretty and vulnerable looking, can have requested the total humiliation of being treated as pure garbage!

“This spec of dirt Madam is called, for now, Julie Smyth, she is the client I discussed with you on Sunday and has attended as instructed.”

I look away from Mai and down once more at the woman called Julie. Without turning towards Mai (I want to see Julie’s reaction) I ask.

“Is everything ready for this trash?”

She twitches at the word ‘trash’ but does not raise her head to look at me. I swing my booted foot slightly, knowing from experience that it is all she can see of me, and I notice her head move very slightly as her eyes track the arc of my heel.

“Everything is in readiness as discussed.”

“Then I suppose that we should dispose of her!”

Again I noticed the slight twitch of Julie’s head, so to increase her obvious excitement I add.

“You do not need me to deal with ‘this rubbish’; I will leave ‘it’ in your hands Mai.” I step back and watch in silence.

Mai holds out her hand towards the kneeling woman, the vibrator that fills her palm is not that long, nor that round, it being just barely six inches in length and an inch and a half in circumference. Yet it has some very special features that the unsuspecting wearer will not discover until Mai is ready to demonstrate. She looks up at Mai, takes the object and hesitantly parts her knees, with a final look of hesitation and then submission; she reaches between her parted legs and inserts the object into her moist waiting vagina.

Next and without any hesitation Mai hands a butt plug to the captive, this time there is more of a hesitation and a sharp look towards Mai. A single click of Mai’s fingers stimulates the desired reaction and the plug enters the woman’s tight ass hole quite quickly. Mai then takes a metal and rubber chastity belt from her draw and indicating that the woman stand, she then holds it out to her. Watching intently as the woman steps into the belt, (Mai smiles) as the belt is pulled up to fit tightly around the waist and snugly against the woman’s mound. With a loud snap the lock which seals the belt in place snaps home. Mai points towards the floor and the slave girl kneels obediently, her subjection accepted and sealed at Mai’s hands.

Mai clicks her fingers and leads the crawling nearly naked woman out of her office and around to the patio. She then points towards the waste bin, she (Mai) quickly moves to stand next to the stepladder which she has placed in anticipation. At a simple pointing finger the woman crawls over and kneels in front of Mai, who picks up a wide metal collar and swiftly clamps it around the garbage’s presented neck.

I retire to my favourite seat on the patio to watch the ongoing interplay. Mai reaches to the floor and picks up a leg hobble and fits each cuff around each ankle. I notice that Mai has ten or so inches of chain separating the cuffs, which I realise will make getting into the bin a challenge (though not impossible). I smile, intending to watch carefully what happens next.

It is interesting for me to finally see Mai letting here imagination run free, whilst also retaining her own brand of detachment, exactly as suits her personality. Next Mai locks the woman’s wrists into heavy cuffs pulled tight behind her back. How Mai expects her to be able to climb into the waste bin bound as she is now, is beyond me, but Mai obviously has given some thought to this problem and has a method in mind.

Mai stands to the side of the ladder pointing in to the bin, the captive looks confused, but when her hair is tightly grasped and pulled by Mai she starts to climb. At the top she looks inside nervously by bending forward at the waist (as the collar restricts most head movement). Mai casually lifts her palm, and with little resistance from her captive she pushes against her outthrust naked bottom and the woman tumbles effortlessly from my sight. Simple, but very effective I think, admiring Mai’s method.

Mai leans over the lid and indicates something but I can not see what. I hear a sound as the captive moves into a more suitable position. The heavy rustling sounds of poly bin bags being scrunched and compressed emanates clearly from inside of the bin. Mai has a pair of swimmers goggles and a roll of two inch wide duct tape in her hand now; she leans in apparently fitting the goggles, then she applies the tape to hold them in place and to act as a blind-fold. Next she pulls a ball gag from her jacket pocket, it is a safe gag, a two inch ball of solid plastic filled with holes, and fitted with a strap to secure it. Mai leans over the waste bin lid, balancing on the stepladder and fits the gag into place.

It is only as Mai gathers two lengths of rope, one from each end of the bin and pulls them upwards, at the same time saying, ‘stand’ to the contained woman, that I realised exactly how much Mai has planned out this torment. I hear a rustle and then see the woman’s head poking out of the bin; slowly black plastic is pulled up by the cords (Mai is lifting), it is covering and enclosing the bound body in the waste bin. Mai secures the enclosing plastic to the collar and the woman is encased all the way up to her pretty gagged face. Mai reaches out and sharply pushes down on the captives head, she vanishes once more into the waste bin, amidst the rustling of plastic and the popping of air exploding out of what I can only imagine to be rubbish sacks, which Mai has already placed inside of the waste bin.

For those (dear readers) of you that have read my diary I do not need to explain, and for those that have not yet read it, I will only say that my house supports two permanent slaves. It is they that appear as Mai turns away from the waste bin. Each carries two full black refuse sacks, and these they throw into the open top of the bin, adding to the content.

Mai sits in the chair next to me having slightly turned it so that she can see both me, and the bin, she watches as my slave’s make multiple trips each adding to the waste container, and thus the discomfort of the bound, bagged, gagged and blindfolded, belted and plugged woman. She, that has become nothing more than just another bag of disgusting garbage, to be abused and ignored as suits Mai.

Mai places three remote controls on the table and connects them to a remote receiver, and then to a black box which is apparently wirelessly attached to a motion detector fitted next to the backdoor. Exactly what the contraption does is not yet clear to me, but the smile that flows over Mai’s face indicates only more discomfort for the bagged garbage. It does not take very long for me to get a more detailed understanding of the contraptions function, as a slave steps through the back door carrying yet another bag, I heard a grunting and rustling from inside of the container.

“Empty that bag in please Clair.” Mai calls out to the house slave, who complies with Mai’s instruction. Ripping the bag and tipping the contents, now loose, into the bin and over the woman’s head. More struggling sounds as the waste vegetable scraps spill into the bin, then there is silence.

“Close the lid Clair please and catch it shut; after all we don’t want rats getting into the trash now do we.”

Clair smiles a mischievous grin in our direction as she closes the lid and flips the catch into place, then she returns into the house. As she approached the back door a light flashes on the gizmo on the table, followed instantly by a much muffled squeal which erupts from inside of the bin. Mai looks across, then back at me as the squealing fades, before I can ask, she explains further.

“Well now I know it works!”

“It certainly does something.”

“It does a lot more than something! That.” Mai points towards the gizmo.

“That does three different things. First it switches on the vibrator on a medium to low setting designed to get the garbage’s attention. Second, when it selects option two it will switch on either the vibrator and or the butt plug together, though the latter is set to high, and thirdly it can select to deliver an electric charge all through the chastity belt, or it can do any or all of these functions in single or multiple and all by remote control. All it takes is for something to breach the infra red beam and it selects, then activates”.

“Electric shock?” I glance at Mai waiting.

“Yes, an electric shock; here let me show you it’s easier to listen to the effect than for me to explain.”

I expected Mai to get up and cross to where the sensor is active but instead she reaches into her jacket pocket and extracts a small compact remote with three buttons and a dial. As I watch she places the controller onto the table and presses the third button. A yelp explodes from the bin, despite the gag the garbage is wearing. Mai glances down and then says.

“And that is only on setting two of five. It won’t do her any harm in any way, but the current passes over extremely sensitive nerves as you can imagine, it should feel like a red hot poker being applied deep inside of her if I were to turn it up all the way.”

With that Mai turned the dial to setting three from two and continues talking.

“The shock lasts for anywhere from two seconds to ten seconds only, but to any culprit fitted with this belt it will feel more like an age or even hours! The vibrator will only stay on for up to five minutes, not long enough to get most wearers off, when on a low setting. As for the butt plug, that will match the vibrator and it also inflates as it activates as well. All in all, this pile of sacked rubbish is going to know the feeling of being worthless, helpless, frustrated and filled completely, whilst also being randomly tormented for the full duration of her stay.”

Mai looked directly into my eyes and asked. “I hope you approve Madam?”

What could I say so I said nothing, so instead, I raise my coffee cup towards Mai and nod, at the same time I reach across the table and press one of the buttons on her clever little remote, then we listen to a muffled, but shrill squeal which emanates from inside of the bin.

As I have said the culprit is totally under Mai’s control and as I have other things (mainly shopping) to attend to, I leave the table and the culprits care to Mai. Of course I enter into the house, and of course my passing triggers the remote sensor, just as the backdoor closes I hear the struggling begin and smile to myself, another satisfied guest. Now where is Clair? I need her as I do not carry my own purchases, that is my slaves calling.

The next morning I exit the backdoor coffee and toast in hand, expecting to hear some reaction to my presence, but when I look to my right the bin is gone, along with its female contents I presume. An hour later Mai appears and joins me. She holds out a neatly folded piece of paper to me which I take. Before I can open it Mai says.

“I removed the rather disgusting garbage from inside of the bin and took her to the shower in the slave quarters, instructing her to clean up dress and then write in some detail a letter for your attention.”

‘The paper I now hold I realise.

“So where is the rubbish presently?”

“She has gone for now, I sent her off home to recover from her ordeal, once of course she provided the letter.”

“I thought that she was going to be here for a couple of days?”

“She thought that she was as well, but I decided to introduce her to her fantasy gently, that way she will return.”

Clever I thought turning my attention to the folded paper.

Dearest Madam.

I can think of no way that I can express to you how grateful I am, for the disgusting way that Mistress Mai has insured that I have been treated. The pain and humiliation I have endured has been sublime, the arousal that accompanied various points during my incarceration was perfect, and the sheer stink of the garbage and especially when Mistress Mai tipped the large pot of cold thick soup over my head, and the stickiness that followed was wonderful. Thank you so much for allowing my most secret fantasy to become reality and I hope that, with your permission and Mistress Mai’s agreement, this will not be the only time I endure. Thank you so very much.

Julie Smyth (the not so silent rubbish).

I read the letter through again then looking up at Mai and said.

“SOUP!”

Mai laughed.

“Yes thick cold pea and vegetable soup…”

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02.02.10

story continues in Sacked Part 2

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