Gromet's PlazaTrashcan Stories


by Lckdnrbbr

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© Copyright 2024 - Lckdnrbbr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; mpov; mc; bond; latex; bagged; enclosed; tease; climax; objectify; catsuit; hood; sex; mast; breathplay; collar; mittens; mask; cons; XX

Continues from

Part 3

Now that Sam’s "needs" had come back, we made the most of it. From that first night she’d gotten herself bound up in her new rubber catsuit, she had been insatiable.

She’d slept tightly bound in rubber and trash bags that first night, and then stayed in most of the next morning. I’d taken her hood off and given her some water and a bite to eat, but then I gave her a choice, she could either get out and take a break until tomorrow, or she could stay my trash girl for the rest of the day.

It was fun watching her wrestle with it, and it was clear she really wanted to stay in, but in the end she opted to take a break. We got her out after 12 hours in, and she stretched her sore limbs and took what must have been one of the longest pees of her life.

She insisted on staying in the catsuit though, and I sat there with a big stupid grin on my face watching my gorgeous girlfriend walk around the apartment completely decked out in rubber.

We made love twice and she was absolutely wildly horny, and just wanted to keep cuddling, and eventually she started to get excited about tomorrow.

“So, would you really toss me away in the trash can? I didn’t even know that was a thing of mine, but when you said it, I absolutely saw stars, and now it’s all I can think about. I just need to be stuck inside it, like for real. Really really stuck.”

“Haha, yeah, I figured that sparked something inside you. You practically levitated when I said that”

“Yeah, sorry about that, I think my butt is still sore from where I bounced on the closet floor. But really, would you do that for me?”

“Well, it’ll take a little planning. I’m not going to do anything that can hurt you, so we need to make sure you’ve got a way to get air in there, and I want to clean it and line it with a fresh bin liner so you don’t pick up some germ or something.”

“OMG you’re really going to do it!” Sam said, paying basically zero attention to anything I had just said except that I wasn’t saying no. “Oh, you have no idea what this is doing for me. Are you ready again?” She said, rubbing herself against me, her catsuit sliding smoothly against my clothes and bringing my cock up to full attention.

I was clearly ready again. Sam made it clear exactly how happy she was that I was indulging her in this. After we both came, I told Sam that I was going to get things ready, and that she should get some rest, since she spent last night bound in a tight ball. She said she actually slept great in there, but she took my advice, rolled over and pulled on the hood to go with the catsuit, and fell asleep.

I got to work, preparing the large bin in my garage for her. I hosed it out and cleaned it with an old towel, and it was still pretty new anyway, so it really wasn’t stinky or gross. Next I drilled a few holes near the top edge of the can, so even if the lid was closed tight, fresh air would still flow. Finally, I put some bubble wrap and shipping mailer bubbles down in the bottom, and then put the can liner in above it.

Curious how it felt, I decided to climb in, and with some effort, I managed to bend my knees up and lower myself down. I slid down in with a whoosh, and felt the plastic press in around me.

I felt my own submissive urge rise up, and my fetish for the shiny black plastic around me helped me slip deeper into an aroused, subspace-y haze. The packing materials below the bag I was in felt soft and nice under me, and my feet were cramped but not painful. Finally, I reached out and flipped the lid closed, and imagined being trapped in there by a strict mistress.

The air got humid and warm, but I felt the fresh breeze coming through the air-holes I had made, and I was confident that it was safe in here. Safe and warm and actually kinda nice.

But, after a little while, I was getting bored and my foot was cramping a little, and I wanted to get out and get off. I extricated myself, satisfied that this would fit Sam’s desires.

I closed the lid, went up to bed, and snuggled in next to my rubber trash goddess. I was falling pretty deeply for her, and it seemed like all I could think about was serving her, not with her as my mistress, but more like it was my purpose, my mission to get her off fully and completely. It was starting to feel a little like an obsessive need.

I fell asleep dreaming of ways to give her what she wanted.

I awoke to the smell of rubber, and felt Sam pressing herself up against me, radiating heat from within her rubber suit. She still had her hood on, and blindly snaked her way around me, and kissed me through the rubber. It was kinky and amazing, and before long she had pulled down my underwear and unzipped her crotch, and we started our morning with the most amazing lovemaking session, sensual and sweet and rubbery.

After we were done, she zipped herself back up, made a happy noise, and snuggled her rubber butt back up against me. It seemed she was content to stay in her rubber.

“Do you want me to take this off?” I asked, touching her hood.

She shook her head left and right, and it was clear she was happy just as she was.

We snuggled for a while longer, and I eventually got up and started my morning rituals. I made coffee for myself and had a quick bite to eat, and then got a Gatorade ready for Sam.

I brought it upstairs, and kneeled down next to the bed where she still lay, wrapped tightly in her rubber suit and hood.

“You should drink, you must be sweating in there,” I said, and she nodded a bit. She was still reluctant to take any of the rubber off, but eventually she lifted the bottom of her hood, freeing her mouth but not fully taking it off, and accepted the gatorade. She sat up a bit and drank a good amount.

“Thank you,” she said, and smiled at me, still half-hidden by the rubber hood, and then pulled it back down over her.

“You’re really happy being in all that rubber, huh” I said, smiling back. She nodded, and I swear I could see her still smiling under the hood. “I guess that means you want to get right to our games?”

“Ohh yeah…” she said, muffled under the hood. Her hand drifted towards her sex, and she began to play with herself idly. “Tell me what you’re going to do,” she said, as she began to work herself up.

I climbed up on the bed and straddled over her, taking her by the wrists and pinning her down, while pressing my hips down against hers. She moaned, and shuddered up against me.

“Well, that all depends on you, trash. You see, I’ve gotten a little obsessed with all this. All I can think about is giving you what you want, and making your fantasies come true. I think I’m ready, but I need to know what you really want, and that you really really want it.”

“Ohhh…” she moaned, and tried to press herself up against me. I held her down fast, and pulled my hips away slightly, leaving her wanting, and writhing up towards me.

“So tell me, trash. Do you really want me to throw you away today, and treat you like just another piece of trash?”

“Ohhh, yee ee eesss,” she said, convulsing and thrusting up towards me.

“And what you really want, more than anything, is to be truly stuck, with no way out?”

“Yes. Do it. Promise you’ll do it,” she said, barely coherent and muffled by the mask.

“As you wish,” I said, and finally pressed myself down against her fully again. She convulsed and moaned and sucked big breaths of air in, causing the rubber hood to vacuum against her face as the 2 nose holes couldn’t quite keep up.

Just as she was about to peak over, I pulled myself away, and stood up. “Ahh ahh ahh,” I said, in a singsong tone. “Trash doesn’t cum without permission. You’re mine now, you cum when I say you do.” I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the soft leather collar, and wrapped it around her beautiful, rubber clad neck. I snugged it closed, and threaded a lock through the locking buckle. I luxuriated for a moment, letting her feel the suspense before I locked it on, and then *click*.

She shuddered with pre-orgasmic convulsions again. I clipped a leash to the front of the collar, and then pulled gently on it. Sam sat up and followed me, still blind.

I walked her down the hall, and then out into the garage, and right up next to the big, open garbage can I’d prepared.

I pressed myself close against Sam and whispered into her rubber covered ear.

“Here we are pet, your new home for as long as I want to keep you.” I stroked a finger down her rubber covered cheek, and she pressed her head towards my hand, melting into me. I traced my finger down under her chin, and then took a gentle but commanding hold around her neck. I squeezed and lifted a bit, and she gasped and moaned as her knees buckled a bit. God I loved making her squirm like this.

“I’m going to lift you in now, put your arm around me,” I said, and she hugged onto me, draping one arm over my shoulder as I easily scooped her legs up into my other arm. She snuggled into me, and I carried her over to the waiting plastic maw of the garbage can. She pressed her face up towards mine, and I kissed her again through the rubber. She kissed me back passionately, her tongue pressing the slick material out between my lips.

“And now, you’re all mine. You ready?”

Sam nodded, and I gently placed her feet down into the trash can. She got her footing on the bubble wrap and cushioning, and then I pressed down on her shoulders. She got the hint, and sat down into the can, with her legs bent in front of her. She fit a lot better than I did, but it was still tight in there.

“Hand,” I commanded, and Sam reached one hand up towards me, which I guided into a rubber ball mitt. I snugged it down around her hand and then buckled and locked it shut. “Next,” I said, and did the same to the other. Her hands were now useless balls, and she luxuriated in the feeling of being wrapped in rubber and helpless, running the mitts against her face and then exploring the feeling of rubber on rubber on her chest, within the tight confines of the can.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out a large lock, snaking it through the D-rings on the rubber ball mitts, and to the large O-ring on the front of her collar. Her hands were now pinned up to her chest, and I waited a moment before clicking it shut.

I leaned into her trash can, already feeling the warmth of her body emanating from the tight rubber and plastic prison, and I explored her body with my free hand, stroking her cheek, fondling and massaging her chest. She moaned and writhed, so close to the ultimate fantasy she’d been pursuing, and shuddering regularly with her little pre-orgasms.

“This is in trash. This is what you’ve been begging me for. Right now, it’s just a game, and you could just reach those hands of yours up to the edge and stand up out of the can.” Sam moaned and luxuriated in my touch, and she shook her head “no” when I mentioned getting out.

“But if I click this one little lock, your hands are useless, and you’re just a piece of trash that’s stuck in its can.” Sam’s shudders turned rhythmic, and her moans turned to a guttural “uh uh uh” sound. She was completely lost again, living on the edge of orgasm and bliss.

“Trash gets bagged up and packed in tightly with the other bags, and it can’t just get out when it wants. It stays in until I say so, and I should warn you, something’s clicked in me. I love seeing you like this and knowing what it does to you is driving me mad with desire. I don’t think I’m letting you out anytime soon.”

Sam was practically feral now, and her “ohs” were rising in pitch, I could see her tongue searching for something to lick under her shiny rubber hood, and she pressed her head up against my arm as I squeezed her nipple.

“But I need you to do it, Trash. I need you to be the one that puts yourself here. You’re locking yourself in. The lock’s right here in my hand, just under your rubber mitts, feel it? Yes, right there. All you have to…”


Sam couldn’t wait any more, she’d squeezed the lock shut as soon as she felt its edges through her rubber mitts, and it started a crescendo that she couldn’t stop. Her moans rose up and up, and she shook and rocked in her trash can until I worried she might knock it over. I figured she must be coming now, but she kept going higher and higher. I stroked myself through my pants as I felt her writhe and I saw how deliciously the hood was sucking to her face as she tried to drink in air as she neared the peak.

I smiled wickedly, and brought my hand up to her rubber covered face.

“Now trash, cum for me,” I whispered in her ear, and clamped my hand over her mouth and nose, easily closing the two small holes over her nostrils. She sucked for air but not even a trickle flowed through, and I felt her tongue licking and searching against my palm.

She exhaled one last breath into the hood and then began to buck in earnest until finally, the orgasm that had been building since she went to sleep in her rubber last night all crashed over her.

It was almost frightening, and as it hit her, she flexed the plastic of the can out, slammed back into the back, thrashed her shoulders side to side and (once I let her have some air) let out a tirade of screamed “ohs” that was so over the top it almost made me laugh. I was so happy to be giving her this, and was rubbing myself into a frenzy as well.

I’d seen Sam have some big orgasms over the past few weeks, but they were appetizers compared to this. It went on for at least three minutes, and I’m pretty sure the only reason it stopped was because Sam had physically exhausted herself.

She finally quieted down a bit, and her moans turned to shudders, and almost sobs, but she still quaked every few seconds with her little convulsions. She was still, somehow, having her mini orgasms and close to the edge.

I stayed close and stroked her cheek, and she quieted into a dreamy subspace, resting her head against the inside of the can.

“Now that you’re all used up, you’re just a thing to be thrown away,” I whispered next to her ear, and started making the rest of the preparations.

Knowing she was going to be in for a long haul, I didn’t want to introduce a gag and make her safe word prematurely because it was hurting, so I opted for a gas mask over the rubber hood. It pulled on nicely and made an airtight seal (which I tested for a moment by closing off the air hose, reveling in the fact that a few seconds of breathplay turned her back into a quivering, horny, moaning mess in there.)

Next, I pulled the edges of the inner bag she was sitting in up around her and tied it off above her head, sealing her in the bag inside the can liner.

“I wish you could see yourself. Nothing but a shiny black bag of trash deep inside a trash can. No one would ever guess there’s a beautiful girl who begged to be trapped in there, covered in rubber head to toe, bagged up, thrown away, and locked in with no way out.”

Sam moaned again. God I loved teasing her like this. I wondered how long I could keep her on the edge and begging for more.

I snaked the hose over to the side where the air holes were, and clipped it to a bracket I’d glued there to ensure she had access to the air supply, and then went to get the rest of the trash.

I’d prepared some clean bags earlier, filled with things like fresh kitty litter and old throw pillows, but as far as Sam knew, I was tossing in last week's garbage with her.

“Now that you’re all packed up the way you should be, it’s time for you to join the rest of the trash. Are you ready?” I asked, and was rewarded with a little forward-back nod from the top of the plastic bag, but played into the role. “Well, it doesn’t matter, you’re already trash either way, so here comes the rest of it.”

I tossed the bags in, letting the heavy bag of clean kitty litter press down and around her, and packing her in tightly with the softer items until she was really pretty well jammed in here up to about her shoulders. Her head was mostly free (aside from being under a hood, gas mask and bag), but I needed to leave a little bit of fun for later.

“All right trash. You’re right where you should be, and I’ve got things to do around the house. If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you out to help me around the house as my little rubber maid, always bound and dressed in your rubber of course. I’ve even got a cute rubber maid dress you can wear right on top of your catsuit while you work. Then, every night, back in your bin you’ll go. And if you’re naughty, or even just if I feel like it, I’ll keep you binned up all day, just an object to be dealt with, that threw itself away.”

Sam was building up again, slowly at first as I packed her in, and then more and more as I spoke. I was so tempted to play with her again and my hand had snaked its way inside my pants as I stroked myself languidly.

But no, there was plenty of time for that later. Now, it was time to finish off Sam's fantasy and give her what she’d begged me to promise her I wouldn’t chicken out from. She wanted to be stuck, and honestly, that’s what I wanted now too. The thought of truly having her at my mercy and in my protection in this way was hitting some wild part of my brain and sending little electric shocks of pleasure through me. I felt my stomach muscles tense suddenly, and my cock practically leapt in my hand. I’m pretty sure I said “ohh” as it happened, but I couldn’t quite remember. I felt like I’d just orgasmed but not quite, and I shook my head, trying to clear my mind a bit. Whatever that was, it felt GOOD. I felt it again, not quite as pronounced, but a little shudder-wave of pleasure ran through me, starting with my abs and then a throbbing intensity in my cock.

If this was what Sam was feeling, I was beginning to understand why she was craving it. All I wanted now was to finish this, and give Sam what she truly wanted.

“This is it, trash. I’m closing the lid, counting to three, and clicking the lock shut. All you have to do is make any noise, and we’ll abort, but if you stay quiet, there’s no getting out. You’re mine as long as I want to keep you, and you made me promise you it’d be at least eight hours for the first run. I know this is what you really want and.. ohh…” I shuddered again. I was building up to something incredible myself, “and being totally honest, it’s all I want now too. I just might keep you like this.”

Sam moaned and I smiled, she was almost there. I was curious what would happen when I shut the lid.

“I’ll see you later, trash. I’m closing the lid now,” I said, and closed it on top of her. She was suddenly quiet, not making a peep, but I could feel the can shudder and rock from inside.

“Counting down,” I said, still nothing from inside.





With the click of the lock and sure that any noise she made would not cause me to second guess or let her out, Sam suddenly erupted again.

She was still spent from a little while ago, so this time the orgasm rolled over her in long waves, and I could hear her build herself back up as each wave crested over her. I imagined her inside her bag, buried in the other bags, and firmly trapped in the can, stretching, fighting, pulling and realizing she was completely, irrevocably stuck.

It was all driving me wild too, and I finally took out my cock and quickly found myself having a massive cum standing right there next to her can.

This was it. She was mine, she was trapped, and she loved it. God what a head rush and power trip. Even after cumming, the little shudder of mini-orgasm hit me again. Whenever I thought about Sam and keeping her trapped and safe here, they came like little hiccups of pleasure. I was obsessed with keeping that feeling going, and got settled in on the couch in my basement near Sam’s can to dream up even more debauchery for us to get into.


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