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Trash of the Magi

— by lckdnrbbr —

Times are tough. Perhaps that goes without saying, but for Delia and Jim, it was doubly true. They’d both just been laid off.

They’d met quite a few years back at a local bondage club, and had hit it off immediately. Both Delia and Jim were switches, and their kinks overlapped in many different, wonderful ways, but like everyone, there were a few kinks they didn’t totally share. Both were totally into bondage, but Jim was into latex, and Delia didn’t really have a thing for it. Her kink of kinks was objectificaiton. She loved being turned into an object – furniture, art, or her deepest most secret kink, trash. She’d only shared that last bit with Jim recently, and he’d thought for a few seconds before finally saying “we’ll see”. Delia had assumed that she’d finally found a kink that squicked Jim, and hoped hadn’t weirded him out too much. She didn’t mention it again, but that didn’t stop her from having some amazing daydreams of Jim tied up and locked into the huge trash can in her garage. She’d ordered it special, and had spent many secret nights trussed up in there by herself. She kept it clean, and had even made some strategic hidden airholes so she could play in there as long as she wanted. When she was feeling randy and domme-ish, she couldn’t stop dreaming of bagging Jim up and tossing him away.

Both Jim and Delia were successful professionals, at least, until recently. He worked for an IT firm that serviced the financial market, and she was in customer service at one of the big banks. Hell, in New York, practically everyone worked for a bank or hedge fund or some other such thing. When the crash came, both Jim and Delia found themselves out of a job and burning quickly through their savings. They’d decided to forgo their usually “bondage christmas” this year since funds were tight, and it was killing them. In the past, they’d bought some of their favorite toys for eachother at christmas… The inflatable sleepsack, the vacbed, their catsuits, and Delia’s favorite, “the box”. It was a simple contraption, really, but it could be dressed up so many different ways. She’d been imprisoned inside as a table, they’d added some padding and Jim had used it (well, her) as her footstool, one time, they’d even hid Delia inside as the pedestal for a sculpture Jim had made as they invited friends over for an “art swap” party.

Thinking about that night got Delia excited. She knew they weren’t supposed to be doing Christmas this year, but she just couldn’t help herself. She knew exactly what she’d get Jim… Her! Once she had her plan, she went quickly to work. Jim had been freelancing late at night, so it was about 1 am on Christmas eve when she was ready. She’d found a box even bigger than “the” box, and placed her box inside. She’d then wrapped the whole thing up, placed a bow on top, and started to get herself ready. If she couldn’t buy anything for Jim, at least she could give herself to him exactly as he fantasized – a latex doll totally bound and at his service. She showered and lubed herself up, and pulled on her latex catsuit. It fit like a glove and to her surprise Delia could feel herself getting warm down there. Maybe she was growing a thing for Latex after all.

She polished herself up perfectly, then grabbed a few more things and padded over to the box in her latex covered feet. She turned off the lights and stood by the box in the glow of the Christmas tree. She climbed inside and grabbed her bag of toys. First, she added a little “christmas present to herself” and set it to a low, simmering vibrate. Then she strapped a soft rubber o-ring into her mouth – she wanted to be Jim’s rubber toy, to use as he wanted. Finally, she pulled her shiny black latex hood over her head.

Delia sat down into the box onto the padded seat inside the box and began her ritual. First the buckle over her lap. She tightened it down and looked at the cover. If she pushed it home, it would lock, and she was in here until Jim let her out.

The though sent her straight into magic subland, and she pushed it home and then pushed in on her buzzing friend at her crotch. She moaned, and nearly lost herself, but knew she wanted to be perfect for Jim and if she got too excited, he’d get here and find her half-done.

Delia buckled straps under her boobs, then around her neck. With two clicks, she was totally stuck. Now, she was at the final piece. She reached up and pulled the lid down over her. Once it clicked home, only the right key would free her from her entrapment. She matched the cardboard box top outside, completing the illusion of a neatly wrapped christmas gift, complete with a card that read “Don’t open until Christmas. The contents are yours to use however you see fit, just be sure to put your new toy away when you’re done! Love, Delia” then gingerly pulled the whole top down until wood met wood. She felt the catches match up, and waited. This was stupid. She knew better than to play for keeps alone. What if Jim didn’t come home? What if something went wrong. She could be stuck like this.

The word “stuck” sang in her head like a choir of horny angels, and she pulled the lid snug. A satisfying series of clicks answered her, and she was totally locked in. She’d remembered that they were supposed to have some friends over for a festivus party on christmas night, so worst case, they’d find her and let her out. she wasn’t quite done though. She reached down and turned her buzzy friend up just a touch and found the inflatable ball mitts they’d designed together. These were an ingenious little gadget, and one of both their favorites. Once they’d had their first set custom made, they’d had a bunch more put together, and they were starting to sell some online. These little ballmitts inflated and trapped the hand inside as the inflation brought the bits of hard rubber at the wrist together. The genius part was that the inflation bulb was on the inside, and the release was a little screw inset on the outside. Delia pulled the mitts onto her hands, and squeezed once. She felt the mitts cling to her. It would be a few more pumps before her hands were useless, and once pumped up, she wouldn’t be able to get purchase on the release valve, so they were stuck on, and she’d be completely encased in rubber for Jim. She hoped he kept her like this.

Delia pumped the balls again, feeling them enclose on her hands. She pulled her hands down to crotch and rubbed as she pumped. With each pump, her hands got more and more cramped onto the bulbs they held, and she could feel the slick lube of rubber on rubber on her crotch. She was nearly there, but didn’t want to peak before Jim got home. For the final piece, she put her hands through two rings on the inside of the box. She’d installed these just for this. It was a tight fit with the mitts mostly inflated, but her hands plopped through. Delia ground down against her seat as she pumped the final pump into her mitts. Then she pumped again. And again. Her hands were totally trapped, and the balls of her mitts were not coming back through those rings. Delia felt herself go over the edge, losing her composure in spite of herself, and came bucking and thrashing (although not really moving much) in her box.

She came out of it and felt that wave of “oh shit” for a moment, but she was really trapped. Aside from that, she was actually really quite comfortable, if a little sweaty. Her buzzing friend was just low enough that it wasn’t driving her crazy, and Delia really couldn’t wait for Jim to find her like this. This was going to be the best Christmas ever.

Tired from her ordeal and starting to warm back up, Delia drifted off to a contented, fitful bondage sleep.

—————————-

Jim couldn’t believe it. Christmas eve, and he was stuck at a client fixing a stupid spyware problem. How had it come to this? He was a software architect! Man things had really fallen apart this year. Thank god he’d saved a bit along the way and could still pick up some freelance gigs…

Yet, here he was, slogging away at 2:30am to cover bills, and he didn’t have a single thing for Delia. The more Jim thought about it, the more it irked him. He really wanted to have something for her when she woke up. He’d been working so many late nights that they really hadn’t gotten to see that much of eachother, and he wanted to give her something really special.

A few weeks ago, she’d mentioned one of her deepest fetishes, and it had caught Jim a little off guard. Delia had said that he wanted to be trash, or, and then she got that look in her eyes, to tie Jim up and throw him away.

He hadn’t known what to say at first, thinking of his own disgusting trash bin. It wasn’t something he really fetishized, so he said simply “we’ll see” that night, and then hadn’t mentioned it. Since that night, he’d been reading about that particular branch of their kink, and had started to get really interested himself. He’d read a few stories on grometsplaza and gotten the bug. Being trashed was like a combo of bondage, plastic fetish, wet and messy, and objectification. He could definitely see why Delia was into it, and figured he’d surprise her with it sometime soon.

He finished up the spyware cleanup job, and was walking down to the subway lamenting his lack of a gift. What was he going to do. He was heading straight to Delia’s place tonight so they could have Christmas morning together, so there would be no time to sneak out and grab anything. Besides, what was open Christmas day.

As he was thinking, walking towards the Subway, Jim looked down. At his feet, covered in a light snow, were mounds of huge black trashbags, tossed away by whatever business he was walking by.

“wow, those are huge, I could probably fit in one of those” he thought to himself.

That’s when the idea hit him. Delia would be asleep by now. Since he didn’t have anything to give her, why not give her what he knew she really wanted?

Jim rode the subway, thinking about how he would accomplish his task and getting really horny. When he got out to Delia’s house, he creeped in the side door straight into the garage and looked around. There was her trash bin. It was bigger than he remembered, now that he looked at it, but he supposed he’d never really looked at it closely before. Above the bin were several boxes of bags of various sizes and other garage stuff. One of the boxes said Bin Liner, 95 gal 3mil and had a greyish black bag hanging out. That sounded pretty big to Jim, so the pulled on the bag. It unrolled and unrolled until finally it was done, and Jim found himself holding it up nearly to his head. This thing was huge! What did Delia need these for? “Maybe she’s been dabbling a bit on her own?” he thought. “Naughty girl”.

Jim creeped inside and walked through the kitchen and then straight to the guest room, otherwise known as their “play room”. As he walked he caught a glimpse of a big package in the dim glow of the tree in the living room. Delia had gotten him something anyway! Jim smiled, happy that he had a plan for doing something for her as well. He opened his drawer and pulled out his black latex catsuit – “a little christmas present to myself” he thought. He also quietly put together a bag of goodies and grabbed a piece of paper. He stopped in the kitchen and had a quick drink, and wrote Delia a quick note. “You’ll find a little surprise for you in the garage. Love, Jim”, and slid it under the closed door of her bedroom. She’d wake up and find quite the christmas present in the morning if all went according to plan.

Jim made his way back into the garage and got started. It was a little chilly, but as he lubed up and climbed into his favorite catsuit, he got warm quickly enough. Dressing in latex always got Jim into the mood, but he was absolutely rock hard thinking about this. He zipped the suit up, and pulled his inflatable hood over his head. It had a built in inflatable gag, which he pumped up first. “Trash shouldn’t be able to talk.” he thought to himself, and moaned a bit into his gag as he gave it one more pump for good measure.

He then inflated his hood, turning his head into a shiny black latex ball. He unscrewed the inflation bulbs and tossed them onto the table in the garage. He wouldn’t need those until he was getting out, to release the air valve.

Jim reached into his bag of goodies and fished out a little lock. He made sure it had and “s” written on it to signify that it was one of the keys only Delia had. He put it through the zipper on this suit, and attached it to the base of his hood, and thought for a second. Was he ready to do this?

“click”

Wow. His hand was apparently more ready than his brain was. He’d clicked it shut, and that was that. In for a penny, in for a pound, he figured.

Now for the new part. Jim walked over to the trashcan and peered down in. It was mostly empty, but there was some trash in bags down below. They didn’t really smell, and the whole bin was lined in one of those giant black bags. Jim thought for a moment, and then got the idea that if he were to be in the can, but below the liner, it would look almost exactly the same, as if he wasn’t even in there.

He pulled the bag out, and then looked down in. The can was spotless, and – yup. His suspicions were right – there were a few holes drilled into the side, and was that a d-ring? Delia had been playing in here. Well, at least she’d thought ahead! In his haste, Jim hadn’t figured out the airflow yet.

The empty bin also didn’t exactly look comfortable. Jim was in until Delia woke up, so he didn’t want to have any pressure spots. He looked around for something he could use to pad the bin, and his eyes quickly set on a puffy black trashbag tossed nearby. He walked over to it and squeezed it. It felt like pillows. A quick peek inside revealed the same, and wondered if this was just storage, or if he’d found Delia’s own trash padding. He tied the bag back up, and tossed it into the can before him. He then grabbed his bag of goodies, put his hands on the side of the can, and hopped up an in.

He lost his balance a bit and had to sit right down into the can. Air came out from the pillow bag with a “whoosh” but otherwise Jim was quite comfortable. This would do.

He stood back up, and started to make his preparations. First, he pulled the original bag of trash back in, and hooked it around three corners of the bin. Now the tricky part. He swung the lid down onto his rubberized and inflated head, and began to crouch down. As he did, the lid shut, and with one hand free, he managed to hook the bin liner back onto the lip of the can. He was now hidden beneath it crouching in Delia’s garbage can. He sat the rest of the way down and in darkness felt through the rest of his goody bag.

He pulled out the huge bag that he’d found, and began the work of climbing into it. It slide easily against his well polished latex catsuit and he pulled it mostly up and around himself. He poked a few good airholes, and then managed to tie the top of the bag in a knot inside.

Now, how to lock himself in here. He was just going to bind himself up in a sitting position, but with this d-ring here, he supposed he could be a bit more comfortable. Feeling around, he looped one of his chains out of an airhold and through the d-ring and then up to the collar of his hood. If he locked it like this, there’d be no standing up and no getting out.

By now, he figured it was nearly 6am. Delia could be waking up soon, and he didn’t want to be caught half done, and he wouldn’t be in here that long. With a “snick” the lock sank home, and he was stuck.

Jim rubbed himself a bit, luxuriating in the situation. Here he was, totally trapped, in his favorite latex catsuit, bagged up, and hidden under Delia’s trash. He even imagined that anyone else would open the trashcan and see nothing out of the ordinary. It would simply look a bit full.

He didn’t want to spoil all the fun, though, and he’d brought some more goodies out. Jim pulled out his rubber manacles and locked one on each wrist in the dark, running the chain through the loop on his hood’s collar. Since the chain was short and his wrists were now trapped he couldn’t reach himself and would have to wait for Delia to finish the job, ensuring he stayed in subspace until she chose to let him out.

Finally, his favorite, the inflatable mitts.

One went on each hand, and Jim wasted no time. This was his favorite part.

“Pump”

I’m trapped.

“pump”

I did this. I’m doing this right now. He felt the latex in his mouth, and compressing his head. He felt the plastic bags restricting his movement, and the solid shell of the trashcan around him/

“pump”

“I’m her trash. God this is sexy”. He thought. He pulled against his chain. It held fast, He wasn’t going anywhere. Although he could probably still get his hands free and figure something out.

“pump pump pump”

Well, not anymore.

“Oh god, I hope she doesn’t let me out. I hope she keeps me like this all day” he thought.

“pump”

This is going to be an awesome Christmas.

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