Trashed at School

Here I was thinking I was hot stuff. I’d turned 18. I was a senior. I had been accepted to college. There was one month of school left and hell, I was sailing through my final classes. I was invincible. I was eating lunch with my friend when a glob of pudding landed in front of me. Raucous laughter erupted from the other end of the table. I saw one of my classmates still holding the spoon used to catapult it at me.

I burned, I picked up my spoon, loaded it heavily with pudding and bent it back to launch return fire. The intended target ducked out of the way and the gooey chocolate mass continued on and struck the Assistant Principal. My heart sank. This wasn’t going to good.

“Young Lady,” he said curtly. “Report here at the beginning of first lunch period tomorrow…trash duty.” I had no idea what that was but it didn’t sound pleasant. Picking up litter I suspected.

I didn’t really think about it much the next day. What could they really do to me. I entered the lunch room a few minutes before the first lunch began. One of the lunch ladies strode up to me. “Are you Kaitlyn?” she asked.
I nodded and she led me to the back of the kitchen. “You’ll want to take your clothes off,” she said.

“Why should I want to take my clothes off,” I exclaimed.

She gave me a sympathetic look. “Look, hon. Anything you’re wearing in the trash is going to be ruined. Take it off or not. Makes no difference to me, but whatever you take off I’ll keep safe here on the shelf.” She looked serious. With great trepidation I removed my shoes and socks and then my blouse and skirt and handed them to her.

“OK, Jim, she’s all yours,” the woman said. I turned and saw one of the janitors. He was an immense, muscular man. I started to shiver at what was to come next.

His voice was strangely gentle in contrast to his appearance. “This way,” he said softly. He led me to the small area where you return your tray after lunch and threw out your trash. He put his hands around my waist and lifted me up. “In you go,” he said lifting me up and placing me inside one of the plastic bag lined cans. I settled down in the can, my head not quite visible out the top and looked up at him.

“How long do I stay here?”

“After the last lunch period I’ll take the cans out and dump them in the dumpster. You’re free to go at that point.”

I sat there as I heard the bell ring. This was silly I thought. Sitting here in a trash can for ninety minutes in my underwear. I shouldn’t have listened to that silly lunch lady. She probably got her kicks watching girls strip down. This was humiliating.

My internalized rant was interrupted when something hit my head. I looked down and saw a wadded up napkin. A few minutes later a top of a yogurt container came my way. It landed yogurt side flat against the center of my chest. I peeled the thing off me. Yech. Then it struck me. I was going to be sitting here while people through their trash in my can.

Things were quiet for most of the period but as it drew to a close a steady procession of people came through. Napkins and empty food containers bounced off me and started to pile up around me. Occasionally someone scraped a plate into the can. Gravy from some nondescript piece of meat, mashed potatoes, peas. The level in the can rose up my folded legs. This was humiliating but nobody seemed to be paying attention to the girl in the can or so I thought.
A glob of mashed potatoes was launched off a plate and hit me in the jaw. I heard giggling. Soon I felt something running over my head. I looked to see a boy pouring the last of a milk carton over me. Hysterical laughter ensued. More stuff was flung at me. I heard a girl say “Serves the stuck up bitch, right.” Soon the flow of people going by slowed and the bell rang.

The second period was much as the first. The level in the can rapidly rose over my chest. I pulled up my arms but there really wasn’t anything I could do. I felt slime encompass my lower body. The smell started to get to me, souring milk, butter, peas… I’d never be able to eat these again.

The third period came and as the rush came to throw things in my can the level rose up to my neck. At this spectacle people seemed to lose their inhibition. Every plate was scraped towards me or on top of me. By the time the period was over trash had covered my head. Every inch of me was covered with garbage slime. The last bell rang and soon I heard Jim’s big, soft voice. “I’ll throw you out now.”

I heard the rustle of the trash bag and then realized that he was tying it shut over me. I felt the can rumble along the floor a bit and then felt being lifted. My world turned upside down as the bag containing my body fell into the dumpster. I laid there in shock for a few minutes not knowing what to do. Jim said I was free after I was thrown out. I heard the lid open and felt something else, contents of another can, land on me. I panicked and tore my way out of the bag. I made my way from my bag. A more foul smell of the inside of the metal box I was now in replaced the fresher waste I had been bagged with. I climbed on top of more trash until I could squeeze myself out the door and out to freedom.

Jim was there with a big hose cleaning out the garbage cans. He turned to me and said “Let me hose you off before you go back inside.” I looked down at the slime and debris covering my body. The last of my dignity shredded, I held up a hand to pause him. I reached down and peeled off my panties and then slipped out of my bra. These won’t be salvageable. I flung them back into the dumpster I had been freed from.

I stood there and let Jim hit me with the stream of water. Like the garbage cans he hosed all the smell and debris from me. It was cold but I welcomed the cleansing. I leaned forward and let him shower my hair with the water and then turned so he could blast off the back side of me.

Shivering, I turned to the kitchen door to see the lunch lady standing there with a towel. I stepped towards her and wrapped myself in it. After a moment I dried myself off and put the clothes back on that I had wisely removed before. At this point I realized that I had no panties and I also realized that some of the dampness down there was neither the slime of the garbage nor the stream from Jim’s hose. Was I really aroused by this episode? Was it the humiliation? The feeling of the trash? The helplessness of being hurled into a dumpster? I spent the rest of the day trying to figure it out.

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10.01.16

story continues in Trashed at School 2

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