Self Destruction

The Problem

I don’t know how I got into this “trashcan” fetish; after all I hate the smell. I never thought of trash as anything sensual, as a matter of fact it isn’t too sensual in the least bit; it simply sits there. It doesn’t care, it festers. Trash is the total lack of emotional embrace. Trash cares not who you are - it remains unaffected by your status as a human being. In the end you are just as significant as the next piece of garbage; you bring no higher value into the trash than any other object does.

This may be the reason I like the trash. I like feeling like any other object there, non-significant. There is a twist to my fetish, however. I want to be de-valued as I become trash. I yearn for human interaction in the process. Trash knows not that you are trash or anything else, but a person does. I want someone who can place me into the category of a “trash object” before I feel like I am “trash”.

I will get turned on a lot more this way - transforming into the garbage that I will be placed into. In the end this fantasy will be just that - a fantasy. I have no desire to become a permanent resident of a trash dumpster, or end up in a landfill. I will say that I love the idea of being compacted and dumped into a vast area as trash. Funny, how the desire for something transforms the undesirable into fantasy. I believe that defines the word fantasy.

In my fantasy I want for “safe” play. I want controlled danger, non-lethal, and supervised at all times. I don’t want to become a fatality. Some things need to be planned out very carefully and others I want to happen as they unfold, elements of unpredictability can have arousing results. When I get trashed, I want to have no fear. This is a little bit vanilla, as far as the true dumpster fetishist goes, but I never did consider myself a true “trash Fetishier”.

I started my fantasy by calling some of my contacts with the City, in the sanitation service. I found out a lot about the urban disposal system, and how a warm body simply cannot get by them. If I ever got into a jam - they would stop at first contact and begin investigating. This would rule out any internal helpers, there are too many hands in the pot to even try.

So I thought about “borrowing” a truck, and getting a compactor for a couple of days, then making my own little trash pile. I could drive the truck around late at night and empty some dumpsters of my choosing in the wee hours of the night, before the regular trash pickup. Nobody questions a truck in a grocery store lot taking away trash.

How could I effectively dump the trash now that I worked out acquiring it? I would have to have a dumpster or container box. Renting a box would be easy enough, but how would I be in several places at once? I can’t go around and gather trash and dump it onto myself… I need a way of placing the trash after I get it.

Placing the trash… someone to help? I don’t know about that. Could be risky, finding someone that would understand my fascination. I never really thought too much of trusting anyone with my deepest fantasies. Now maybe I could just landfill myself… there is a new twist, get myself turned under a few hundred pounds of dirt… but how?

I filed all of my little ideas for this trash fantasy away for a little while, either I didn’t not know of what to do with them, or I simply wasn’t liking the direction I had to go in to solve the problems I encountered. I often do this, take a week or two to reflect on a problem, mull it over sleep on it and try to let an idea come to me. Meanwhile I keep on doing the mundane things that turn me on, self bondage, mummification, and the occasional long shower.

Sooner or later, the overwhelming need for a trash scene or other degradation overtakes me, and I want to have something done to myself that I can’t control. I love the idea of starting something that I can’t stop. Hum, well, I do make exceptions to that end. One of which is the ability to end the scene in the event of permanent damage to myself. I looked into some compactors and other fun stuff, but the rental of a larger unit was out of my range, besides it really was a bit dangerous. Then I thought of using a wrapping device in the scene. I could have a conveyer carrying myself and a fair amount of trash dumped into a commercial polyethylene bag, and wrapped up tight. I could have the entire thing resting on a pallet, and vented on the bottom so I could get air.

This idea excited me so much that I had to think about the detail more carefully. Wrapping devices came in many forms depending on the company and the purpose for which they are built. There is large one that can wrap a box or crate as large as a car, and there is one that shrink wraps smaller things such as a mail item. I needed one about the size of a regular warehouse crate. I could pallet myself in the device and be whirled away by the arms. I really liked that idea. I would get trapped in a mass of trash of my choosing, in a position that I desired, but beyond that, it was out of my hands.

Now I need to think about the other part of the equation, the human side. How would I take my self respecting person to a state of trashdom? I ultimately want a person that can treat me that way, however getting another involved is so, risky, in my opinion. Highly arousing but always the thought of rejection after the scene is long over. I would like to find a person that I could trust, or at least count on for this one favor.

Is there a way I could hire a professional person to do a job, and they not know I am in the equation? I could be in the trash before they arrive, and they would never know I was there. They would of course, treat the trash as trash, and I would be demoted to that status of course. By default they would give me what I desired. I would of course have to plan out some things to make this possible.

The Plan

I’m not a big-time organizer, but I do try to look ahead. I am a plant manager at a furniture manufacturer, and there is a lot of equipment that can help me to realize my fantasy. As luck would happen, I just sent off a request for an auto loading pallet wrapper, to streamline production at the loading dock. I also have a cafeteria inside the plant that has tons of wasted food and other paper products on a daily basis. I am going to have new standards for the removal of the waste put into effect after the implementation of the new pallet wrapper. I'll have the staff at the cafeteria cart the trash out to the packing section where the pallet wrapper is staged. Then the packaging staff will wrap it up, and it will be sent to a landfill by our trucks to save the removal fee.

This is what I want to happen. I’ll go to the cafeteria at night after closing, and hide inside one of the trash pallets; I’ll be able to take all the time I need to modify the pallet as I need. When I am finished I’ll be inside the pallet, hidden and ready for the next day. When the morning crew comes in, they will take the trash out to the packaging area. My pallet will be wrapped and then staged with all the other garbage pallets for removal. I will then be wrapped into the pallet. In addition to that, I will have set the pallet wrapper up to 12 passes instead of the normal 4. This should really make the wrappings tight and very escape-proof. The morning crew won’t notice the change and won’t have fixed it till later in the day.

I know that the wrapped and pallet trash goes out on Friday, so Tuesday morning would be great for this. I will have all the time in the world to get free or be set free. I will place a note on my secretary’s desk, Alexis, asking for this pallet to be set it aside for her inspection on Wednesday night. I'll have a full two days in the trash. She has a bondage fetish; I found her name on the internet three weeks ago surfing for contacts. She will also get a letter in the mail with further instructions about how to inspect the pallet.

I know she will do this for me because of her nature. I think she likes to please. This will come in handy later on. In the note it states:

Wednesday go to packaging and mark pallet #4 for inspection. Have it set aside Wednesday night after close take wrapping off pallet

These are very strange directions but she should do it just out of curiosity. She has never been at the plant at night and does have an imagination. I feel like her intuition will lead her here. The note is just vague enough to ask questions. Besides, she has done everything I have ever asked.

Execution

Monday was long and seemed to never end, my vacation planned I was eager to get it started, I’d be off till next Monday and have lots planned. I told Alexis that some mail would be coming to open it immediately. I also told her to look for any corporate guys that could visit midweek. That should keep her on her toes till I get back.

Seeing most of the office staff leave, I stayed behind till the office was empty. I strolled back to the mill room whistling to myself. The main lights were out, and the shop was swept clean at the day’s end. The cafeteria was on the opposite side of the mill room, and positioned in the middle of the length of the warehouse. On my way back I could see that nobody was here. I looked around the cafeteria, and then went back to the finish room, where all the cabinets are stained and finished. This room is to the right side of the mill room, and off to the side of packaging. One pass and I see the place is desolate. Crossing over to the packaging side, I see rollers and boxes and crates that line the wall and floor. My crate is here along with the pallet wrapper that I need to augment. I turn the pallet wrapper on and reset the wrapper to turn 8 more times the normal 4 for a total of 12. The wrapper is an impressive machine and overlaps all the passes.

After that I grab a pallet jack and get a single pallet from the stack. I drag it back to the office door where I have several things to add to the load. First thing is a large battery to power some toys, next are all the toys, and last are the duct tape and bags and things I will need to hide myself in.

Going back to the cafeteria, I can finally get started with my plans. I set up outside the door to the cafeteria, where the trash is staged to be taken out. I have lots of room and there are two pallets there already. I take 2 fresh new large bags out from the kitchen; these bags are industrial polyethylene bags, much larger and stronger than a 55 gallon contractor’s bag. They hold about 5 cubic feet of trash. I will use both of these bags in my bondage. The first bag I place on the pallet and cut a large section out of the bottom for air. The second bag I put in the center. I attach a large pole to the pallet rising straight up about 3 feet out of the bag. I used the industrial glue out of the mill room to make sure it stays firmly. The bag will cover the entire pole once it is filled. Last I take 2” PVC poles and tape them upright to the outside of the bag, each pole is drilled with about a hundred holes for air to flow in.

The bag is now secured to the pallet by the pole and will not move, ensuring that I won’t get dumped off prematurely. It is now time to get the trash I will need for filling the bag. I can pick through the other two pallets to get all the necessary trash items I desire. I want a good mix of paper and food products, avoiding any other bags or things that might harm me. Now that the bag is half full, I park the pallet first in line next to the door of the kitchen. This means it will be the obvious choice to fill first. In the morning, most of the garbage is paper and food. There are a few boxes but mostly empty Styrofoam cups and trays with leftover food.

Now I concentrate on my body. I strip off naked, and start to plug my mouth with a gag that I brought, and then attach a vibe to my now swollen cock; I am excited from the thought of what is to follow. I take a roll duct tape and start attaching Styrofoam tray to my body, and cover all of the skin showing. When I’m done I wind pallet wrap about myself to secure it further.  I look like a big trashy Styrofoam monster, white and very messy. When I sit down it should look just like the trash.

I place the battery inside the first bag and then hook up the timer, set to control the vibe at random intervals. I clean away any evidence of my being there, and then get into the bag. Moving the trash heap aside, I sit flat on the floor of the pallet with my legs out on either side of the pole in the center. Taking the duct tape out, I begin to tape myself down to the floor, and put a few turn around the center pole, making sure I am not able to move about. Then I pull the remaining trash close around my body making a mound in the middle of the bag so nobody will recognize my form. By this time it is about 3:00 am, and at 4:30 the kitchen managers will get in to start prep for the 6:00 shift. I try to get comfortable as I wait, leaning back on the trash, I can almost fall asleep but I am too excited. There is a tray taped to my head shielding my face from view, so I can’t see anyone that comes near, but I can hear them.

I wait, and wait, and wait. Then I hear the vacuum sound of the mill room machinery turning on, there must be something going on. The door to the kitchen slams open and the first chatter of girls talking about the kitchen is heard. They are prepping the biscuits. The morning delivery is late. The manager is upset, and there aren’t any Danishes on the rack. She yells at Judy and their day is in full swing. Soon a girl comes out and dumps a box of something onto me; it hits the bag in front of me. I hear several workers passing to the kitchen and soon more trash follows, trays, cups, food, and a flood of leftover stuff. It seems like forever but in reality it’s only the first hour of the day. Now the garbage is getting heavy on my body and the bag is about ¾’s full. The first shift is now working and the flood of trash stops. I made it through the first wave. Several large trash bags are thrown on top of my head and I can’t see anything at all. There is a grumble in my tummy and I realize I haven’t eaten at all. I can’t do anything about it now. I am trash.

I can’t tell what time it is so I try to sleep. I doze on and off till the vibe clicks on. I am startled by it and it feels so good. I notice the trash is heavier and I am not able to wiggle as much as before; more trash must be on top now. The kitchen staff is getting the morning trash out and the lunch ready. One of the men inside comes out and dumps a big box into the bag with me full of old grease. It’s slimy and cold, clumpy and smells of bacon. He mashes it into the bag hard and goes back for more. When he returns he mashes more trash into the bag, filling it to the brink. All is silent for about ten minutes. Suddenly he returns and I feel my pallet moving, it is jacked into the air on a pallet jack, and starts to roll, the weight of the trash tips, and the whole pallet rolls away to the packaging room.

I hear people talking in the aisle as the pallet passes them. The man enters packaging and drops the pallet at the door. Then there are the sounds of forklifts, trucks and the smell of propane exhaust. I can hear the pallet wrapper in the background. I wait. The bell for lunch hour sounds. Usually the trash is bundled up after lunch before the line starts moving again. I have one hour before my fate is sealed up.

Just then I hear a man talking just outside the package room.

“Yeah, just throw that in that bag there, that is trash anyway…” he said to someone. “That glue has gone bad anyway, its starting set up already. What a waste, a brand new five gallon drum of that stuff was left uncovered last night… that is very expensive glue too. Dump it out.” He stated. My heart sank. Had I forgot to recover the glue? Hope that glue is past setting or I am going to be glued up for good. That stuff sticks to anything and bonds rock hard. Soon I feel a slimy sensation of cold glue running down my arm, then my neck, around my other arm… there was a LOT of this stuff and it’s all over me and the trash. It hasn’t set either so I’m in trouble. I just hope that it doesn’t clog up the air holes. I don’t think it will, I drilled half-inch holes.

The time passes slowly and then I feel the forklift pick my crate up fast. I am whirled off and set onto the pallet wrapper. A few moments later, the pallet wrapper begins to wrap the bag. I feel a slight compression at first, and then an enormous push in from all sides, I feel the trash getting mashed flat onto my body. The PVC poles are rigidly pinning me upright, and my arms are now immobile. The pole in the center is grinding into my chest and face. The gag I am wearing prevents me from making a sound but I exhale and groan with the trash. I feel the still wet glue squishing out from all the little places to seal against my skin. My cock is about to explode and I never thought the wrapper would do this to me. The wrapper keep putting more wrap onto the crate and finally stops. I can’t move a muscle. I am part of the block of wrapped trash, sealed inside, tightly compressed into one unit of trash. I feel the vibe turn on again just as the forklift picks my crate up again moving it to the back door. I am set down just as I cum, resting on the concrete floor.

It has been about 30 minutes since the glue was dumped onto me, and now that I can’t move, the glue will certainly be able to bond everything that doesn’t move while it is curing. I feel things getting rigid, and know that something is happening. The glue sets up in about two hours. So by 5:00, this mass of trash will be one big chunk of trash. I will be inside.

There is nothing I can do at all, and I hope I can make it till Wednesday night. Alexis should inspect my crate and hopefully she will hear me moaning. Near the door I can hear the trucks going to and fro, going about their business. I am resolved to not giving up but hoping for the best. My legs are a bit numb, but all in all the rigid shell around me is keeping warm, and I can relax against it without any problems. I have finally achieved what I wanted. I am totally unable to get out. I am not in control, and I definitely feel like an object, now that I am encased by trash and glue.

I spend most of my time worrying about Alexis and what she will do. Will I be able to make enough noise for her to hear me? Will she even show up and do what I want? This will be a real test of her value as an employee. I hear the next day’s activities go on routinely, and I try to stay optimistic. The note I sent to her via e-mail states: Alexis, inside this pallet of trash set aside for your inspection is a person. They are therefore yours for the night. Have fun.

The e-mail is short and mysterious, just the way I want it. I know that it won’t be long before she is supposed to be here, the shop is closing down. I get excited just knowing that it won’t be long. A fork-lift picks up my pallet and whisks me off to some other place on the floor. I can’t tell what is happening, so things are tense for me. Then the shop goes silent. I hear the sound of foot-steps getting closer. They are high heels, and they sound like an elegant woman. I strain my ears to hear what is out there. There is no sound for a moment, and then I hear the clicks of the high heels circling my trash. I hear something tearing at the wrappings. It must be Alexis. She is tearing the outer wrap off, and I feel no different, the glue must have made all the trash solid. Then she pulled at something, forcing a little bit of trash from the top of my head aside. Soon she had uncovered enough to see my eyes. She stared at me shaking her head. All I could do is sit there.

“I don’t know why I bother with you…” she started, “you’re obviously not worth the trouble to get out.” She turned away, walking back to the forklift. “I think I’ll go ahead and just throw you away!” She said with distain. She ran the forklift up to my pallet and picked me up. Then she whirled me off to the edge of the loading dock. There was a truck idling there waiting for me. She dropped my pallet onto the truck and pulled away.

I don’t know what is going on… this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I wonder what she has planned for me. The truck soon turned on and it drove me away. I couldn’t turn my head so I couldn’t see where I was going. When it stopped I felt cold. We were outside. Then a load lifter took my pallet off and placed it onto a conveyer. Now I was frightened, all the conveyers that I knew of go to some kind of bad thing for people. Then the conveyer stopped and I could see Alexis again.

“Did you ever wonder what happens to all of that trash we get rid of?” She started, “You’re going to get throw in with all the other garbage destined to be cast off down river on a barge. It will be set off at the New York land fill 50 miles away.” She continued. “But before the trash goes onto the barge, it is put into giant blocks of trash, all bundled together for transport.”

I got a sinking feeling in my gut. This was not what I had in mind, and for some reason she had conviction in her voice.

“Did you know,” she said with a coy factualness in her tone, “that they break up most of the bigger trash into smaller chunks before it goes into the smasher?” She paused. “I didn’t know that myself, i'll bet you can get past that, you really aren’t that big, so you’ll just be bruised up a bit.” She said and chuckled to herself. “But then, the trash actually gets sprayed with a sticky bio-glue or something or other… to help keep it together when they smash it, and to break it down faster in the landfill. YOU should love it!”

“Did you know that I have an uncle that works here? Oh yes, he is a great help to me during times like this, he can track the garbage block by block, and i'll be able to track your progress all the way to the landfill. I think I’ll enjoy that.”

She turned and left. The conveyer started with a jolt. I could not get out, and the end seems near. Suddenly I fall over to my side and I feel cracking sounds at my feet. Hard vibrations jar my entire body. Large rollers with huge blunt teeth are cracking up the shell around me. It chews up the pallet I’m on with ease, it breaks the glued shell around my legs and works up to my waist in a flash, then, before I know it, the machine pounds out everything and I go toppling down a chute onto another conveyer. The compaction of the glued stuff has hit me in the face, and I have some scratches and bruises, but I’m not damaged too badly for the most part. The wrapping around me has me still caught, one of the poles is still wrapped to my back, and I am unable to get up. I try to breath easy and get some strength for the next stage. The conveyer moves fast and I hardly have time to see what is coming, I am moved into a box and static sprayers are raining down a sticky goo just as Alexis had told me. Everything was covered by it. The conveyer rolled me into another compartment and dropped me about ten feet into a large bin, a container, it was about 50’ by 30’ and around half full already. I was right in the middle.

The trash kept raining down in increments, slowly the conveyer moves from one side of the bin to the other filling it up. By the looks of it; it will take about a day to fill it, so with this one half full, I have about 6 more hours to go. The loads keep pouring in, and steadily the container is filled up- I keep trying to get up on top of the trash as it is dumped by rolling back and forth. This is good for the first couple of passes, but soon I learn something about the glue. It gets stickier as it dries out, and the thick goo sticks to itself best, so as I roll, I start to pick up more garbage, until I can’t roll anymore. I thrash about to no avail; I am surrounded by garbage again. I lay still unable to get on top of the new garbage, and slowly I am covered by about 2 feet of loose trash. I can’t tell what is happening now that I am covered so I figure the compactor will be next.

The time seems to stop as I wait, it seems like forever. But suddenly I hear a new sound, the sound of machinery, the sound of gears and hydraulics. The compactor is now going to do its thing. I feel nothing for a minute or so, then very slowly, trash starts to move in, steadily and very slow. I start to get hard. My body is swimming in a tide of trash that is slowly getting closer all around me. The glue is squishing around and filling up all the emptied spots. It is by pure luck that I am trapped under an open box, and I am able to breath. The trash is getting tighter and tighter, and soon I can’t breathe very easily. I feel faint as the trash closes in, until I pass out.

When I awake, I am tightly packed. The block of trash is on a barge by now I figured. I am going to go to the landfill now, and be disposed of for good. The trash is tingling, or maybe I’m loosing feeling in my extremities. It could be the glue. I don’t know. Nothing I can do but enjoy the ride.

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

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24.11.06