The Neighbor’s Secret

— by Lckdnrbbr —

She found me in her trashcan.

It wasn’t my fault! She’s got one of those nice, big bins, and the company I use gave me one of those dinky cans. I guess I made a little bit too much noise getting in, because I’d only been in there about 15 minutes when she came down into the garage and found me out.

She startled a bit as she opened the lid, and then yelled at me. “what the hell! I thought you were a raccoon or something.

I would have answered, but I’d left the keys to my gag back in my garage next door. In my pants pocket. With the rest of my clothes. I held up my handcuffed hands and shrugged.

Shelly looked at me sideways, her startle and anger fading. We’d played games before, and both loved plastic, enclosure, and objectification, but we’d never talked about trash play. I wasn’t sure if she’d be into it. That, and it was 1 AM on a friday night.

“Okay. First things first, I’ve got to clean up this mess you made.” She said, as she picked up the bags I’d left next to the can as I’d climbed in. She tossed them in without heed, and they bounced off me and into my lap as I protected my head with my hands. They piled up and were just about up to my face when she stopped.

“Here’s the deal. I’m pooped. If you’re gone in the morning when I wake up, we’ll pretend this never happened, although you’re definitely going to owe me. If you’re still there in the morning, then you’re just a piece of trash I have to figure out what to do with.”

She closed the lid, and I could hear her pad back to the door and go inside.

It was a bit warm under that heavy, squishy plastic, and not everything smelled great, but nothing had gone rancid. Something was leaking on me, and was really slippery. My head was swimming from this turn of events, and I couldn’t help myself from finding my way to a huge orgasm there in the can.

With the orgasm came a flood of “what am I doing” thoughts, but the trash was heavy and comfortable, and I must’ve nodded off.

I awoke with a start, clammy and uncomfortable where my butt met the trashbin. I shifted around a bit and got a soft bag under me. As I squished and squeaked through the trash, my arousal came back, but this time I was able to hold of the urge, and decided to stay in my little home. I drifted back off to sleep and actually slept well for a bit.

The next thing I heard was the sound of a screen door creaking open and slamming shut. I shifted in the bin again, and squinted at the light as Shelly flipped open the lid.

“Wow. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be in there. You know, I’ve been thinking about this all night. I kept waking up and was having crazy trash dreams. I hope you cleared your weekend like a good boy, because at this point you’ve accepted the terms of my deal, you’re mine.”

I nodded, and the plastic crinkled around me and stuck to my face a bit. I shifted and tried to sit up better.

“Oh, don’t worry about getting too situated right now, I need you to move around a bit. Shift over to the other side.”

I did as I was told as Shelly disappeared from my vision. Now that morning was here, I really needed to pee, but I couldn’t tell her that with this gag in. I was also quite a mess, I doubt she’d have let me in to her house, and even though it’s only a short run across the lawn, I didn’t relish the idea of running home in broad daylight like this. I might’ve gotten a little more than I bargained for here.

I jumped as I heard a loud noise at the side of the bin where I’d been leaning. It turned into a roar, and then I saw the end of a drillbit poke through. There were a few more drillings, this time with the bit poking through closer to the lid. Presumably for airholes.

Shelly stood up and leaned over my bin, smiling like a mad scientist, her hair in pigtails and pulled back by the safety goggles she’d just pulled up from her eyes.

I left the lid ajar last night to make sure you got enough air, but we can’t have that all the time, now can we? Besides, how am I supposed to lock the lid shut if I’ve got to leave it cracked open?

Shelly and I met eyes, and I felt myself stand to full, almost painful attention against the plastic bags. I pressed against them slightly as I looked into her eyes and realized she was serious, and loving this. I let out a small “Mmmm” around my gag.

“Yup. You’re in for a while here, trashboy. You wanted to be in there, you got it. Truth is, I’m getting hot just thinking about you as my trash, there to use or throw away as I see fit. Trash shouldn’t be able to talk, and you already took care of that nicely for me” she said, stroking my face, and the leather of the gag. “But trash shouldn’t be able to just get up and walk away, so let’s take care of that, shall we?”

She reached her other hand down into the can with me, and looped a collar around my neck quickly, and forcefully. It was comfortable, but she pulled it together and fastened it tightly shut with authority. I felt the ‘snick’ of a lock before I could even think about what was happening. I went to bring my hands up to my neck, but the handcuffs got stuck in the plastic of the bags they were under. I could get untangled, but not quickly.

I heard a clinking, and realized Shelly had locked a chain to the end of my collar, and she was feeding it through the hole she’d drilled.

“Lean back over to this side” she said.

I hesitated a moment – this was getting serious quickly, and I was loving it, but was definitely a little scared.

I felt a hard pull on my collar, as the chain rattled through the hole and out of the can.

“I wasn’t asking.” She said, with a mischievous smile. I smiled back at her, harder than I’d ever been, and leaned towards the hole where the chain to my collar was rapidly disappearing.

“I’ll leave you a little slack to move around if you’re a good boy.” she said. “Good boys know they’re trash and that trash doesn’t ask to get out before it’s time. You’re a good boy, right?”

I nodded.

“You’ve really got me worked up here. I swear, I’m tempted to weld this bolt to the chain and just keep you there. Maybe someday. For now I’ll just screw it down nice and tight.

I heard her working with a ratchet, and sure enough, my chain was now bolted to the outside of the bin – I could only pull it a foot or so away from the edge, and certainly couldn’t get out now.

She looked back in at me and smiled.

“Happy?” She asked?

I smiled and nodded. This was incredible, and so far I was loving it.

“Good. I’m glad my trash is happy. I even brought you some more friends.”

With that, she disappeared, and I heard her make a heaving grunt sound. A huge black bag descended on top of me, and pressed down on me, sloshing around with it’s weight. It covered my body and the bags already on top of me completely and pressed up near my face.

“I figured it’s time for a little spring cleaning here, so I emptied the fridge and freezer.”

Whatever was in that bag, it was heavy and wet, and my plastic prison was now a lot less roomy, pressing against me on all sides.

“Well, that should do it for now.” She said as she closed the lid. “See you in a while trash.”

She walked away a few steps, but then paused.

“Oops, almost forgot. Can’t have the raccoons getting in here and waking me up again, can I?” She said as she cracked the lid and peeked through. There was that mischievous smile again.

She pressed the lid tight, and I heard the loud click of a big master lock, and then heard it thud against the side of the bin.

That was that. I was naked, handcuffed and gagged, with a locked collar chained to the side of the bin, totally compressed in heavy, soft, squishy trashbags, and now I was locked in from the top as well.

I shuddered with a pre-orgasm, and I hadn’t even touched myself yet.

This weekend was going to be fun.


Chapter 2 – “Spring Cleaning”

I was hot, and sweaty, and smelly, and sticky, and really really trapped.

And I loved it.

Shelly had caught me in her trashcan the night before, and said if I stayed until morning, I was stuck. She kept true to her word, and now I was locked in here and had a bunch of heavy bags on top of and around me. There was still a bit of room in her big can, but with the lid locked shut and my collar locked to the side of the can, there wasn’t very far for me to go anyway.

I shifted about a bit. It had been a few hours since Shelly locked me in, and I was getting a little sore. I managed to shift over to my side and curl up fetal style and got quite comfortable again. Thankfully this trash was mostly soft and squishy.

I was a mess. Drool had been running around my gag for ages, and I was covered in something slippery and wet. There were also some bodily functions that I’d had to take care of as well, but thankfully they were a bit out of sight and out of mind, buried as I was in the plastic bags, and I’d gotten quite used to the smell of old food and sweaty, gross boy in here with me. I imagined anyone who opened the lid at this point might have a different opinion. I laughed to myself that I’d created a “bog of eternal stench” all my own. Thank god I didn’t have any urge to go number two!

The slippery sheen that covered me and the plastic that squeezed into me just keep getting me hard, and I was stroking myself languidly when I heard the screen door open and slam again.

There was the sound of a key in the lock that kept me prisoner here. Well, one of the locks anyway, even with the lid open, I was still trapped by the chain at my collar, and the garbage itself was starting to pin me in pretty well.

With a “whump!” I felt a heavy new weight on top of me, pretty much ensuring that even unlocked it would now be tricky to get out of here.

“Spring cleaning, I’m finally getting rid of some of this old junk before company comes tonight”

With that, the lid slammed shut, and I heard her press it down and lock it again.

Company? She was having company? I don’t know about this – getting caught in here by someone who doesn’t get my kink is not exactly my idea of fun. I squirmed a bit and managed to get my hands up to my collar. I felt around it, tugged and pulled, but there was no getting out of it without something to cut it with. I was really stuck, and I didn’t want to be. As soon as that thought hit the reptile part of my brain, any desire to get unstuck was banished, and I was so caught up in getting myself off that I barely registered when the can opened again, this time to let in a huge bag that Shelly had to squish down with the lid to lock. I could barely move and when I came, I kicked and bucked and thrashed like a madman, but I think I only moved about a centimeter.

Once again, the adrenaline of peaking meant a quick flood of “what the hell am I doing here.” This time, I’d slept enough, however, so instead of drifting into a happy, warm, trashy sleep, I began to really want out.

My jaw was aching, and I it was really hard to move now, and my neck was tweaked a little.

Shelly came back with yet another bag to pile on top, and I mewled a bit as she opened the lid.

“Oh, is the trash getting tired of it’s game?” She asked.

“Mmm hmm” I grunted.

“Okay, let’s get some of that trash off you.”

I heaved a sigh of relief, and as the top three bags were removed, I was able to flex and stretch muscles that sorely needed it.

Suddenly, I heard a “bzz-ching-ching-ching” and before I realized what was happening, I felt my collar tug my head towards the side of the can, and I bumped my head. I went to sit up, but the chain held fast. My loose tether was now a strict lock to the side of the can. So much for moving and stretching.

“You know, I was impressed until this point, but I should have known that trash can’t remember rules. I said if trash tries to get out before it’s time, I’ll have to make sure it’s nice and secure. Now you’ll stay just like that until I’m ready to let you out.”

I was amazed. How the hell could I be this hard again already?

Shelly looked into the can and grinned a toothy, dangerous grin at me. I must have looked a sight, sweaty and matted and half-covered in trashbags up to my chest, but she looked at me with a kinky lust plain in her eyes.

“Now that you can’t turn your head away towards the airholes, we’ll have to make sure you’ve got some air in there.”

She slammed the lid and disappeared momentarily. When she returned she had a black rubber full-head gasmask that she pulled on my head right over my gag. I’d worn this hood many times before and knew that it would definitely keep me in fresh air as long as it led outside the can.

I also knew the thing was airtight.

As if on queue, Shelly had gotten the airhose hooked into one of the bigger holes she’d drilled and promptly closed it off. I began to struggle for air and was now throbbing painfully. Bags rained down on top of me once more, this time pinning my back to the side of the can, and pressing the gasmask against my face even as I tried desperately to breathe air that wasn’t coming.

I was really struggling now, and Shelly was packing that top garbage bag back on and clamping the lid shut. Only after I heard the thud of the lock did she open my airhose again, and I gasped through the hood.

The next few hours were a blur, but I’d managed to resist the urge to go over the edge and out of subspace. Shelly came out a few times to pack yet more trash in and play with my breathing hose here and there.

Finally, I felt her open the lid and heard her talk to me.

“Well, this is a no-return point. Company will be here in 15 minutes, and there’s no way I can get you out, cleaned up and hidden or out of here before then, so you’re officially my trash for the rest of the night. You’d better not make a sound unless you want to be found out for the trash you really are.”

She paused, and I could feel her pressing and bumping against the can.

“oh… Oh… Okay, trash. Here’s..” She panted.. “Here’s my rules. You’re mine until garbage collection. I put the can out to the curb sunday night, so I’ll let you out before then.” She panted again, and I felt the side of the can bump. “Oooh. Oh. I’ll let you out then if you’re good, that is.. Oooooh”

Shelly continued to moan, and I felt the airhose go shut once more.

“Trash breathes when I tell it it can” She moaned, and then moaned louder again until she came to a crescendo and I heard her clamp her hand over mouth as she screamed in orgasm. She seemed to go on and on, and my air had long since run out. I was now trashing trying to get my hands up, made trickier by the fact that I was also moments away from coming myself, and couldn’t seem to get my hands to do anything more useful than what they were currently occupied doing.

Finally, fresh air hissed into the hose and I drank it into my lungs in great heaves.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

“shit. They’re early. Well, now you’re really stuck!” She said, and I felt the lid press down on my and the trash once more, locking in place.

Squished in as I was, I couldn’t quite get enough movement to bring myself off, and frustrated, I played with myself idly as time went by.

After a few hours, I heard someone say something like “Be a doll and bring this down to the garbage can?” and then footsteps and the screen door again.

“Huh, I wonder why she locks this?” I heard a male voice say. I sat motionless, terrified of being discovered. Little did I know that I was all but invisible, buried deep in trashbags. The only visible weirdness was the lock on the can and the air holes in the back, well obscured from casual view.

“She said something about raccoons, and that it was really full” a female voice said.

I felt the lid open, and then something unexpected. The pressure all around me built up as if the trash was a balloon inflating, trapping me against the side of the can. The guy stuffing the trash in was pushing this new bag in and down wherever he could, and the trash in here with me already was now completely mashed into me.

“Here, help me with this” he said as he squeezed the lid down. Even more pressure built up, and then I heard that familiar “click thud” of the lock shutting. I couldn’t move at all.

Thankfully, there was no more trash, although I did hear a few people walk through the garage in various states of drunkness and felt one bump into my can and play with the lock, dropping it against the can. It was a girl and a guy, and I could hear them flirting, as she leaned against the can and played with my lock.

“So what’s with the locked trashcan? That thing’s huge!”

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s where she keeps the bodies” the guy said, and they both laughed.

“Well, knowing Shelly, I wouldn’t put it past her.” they laughed again, and I felt a bump and then my can tilted a little. I think they were actually making out right there against the trash can I was in, with no idea.

After a while they started talking again, and the conversation turned to sex, as it often does. Strangely enough, it soon turned to bondage and the girl admitted to enjoying being tied up or even put in a cage.

“Well, I don’t know about a cage, but there’s this can here”

“Ew gross, it’s probably all stinky in there!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Here I was locked in the thing and they were talking about playing in it themselves!

“Well, it does have a lock on it – who knows, there could be someone in there right now.” They laughed again at the absurdity of the thought.

I just sat there thinking “if they only knew!”

Someone called to them and they disappeared, and I was left to my own devices. I drifted off a bit, but woke in starts as i needed to move badly now and everything was sore.

It’s hard to tell time when you’re just part of the trash, but presumably a few hours later I felt my lid open, and then some of the pressure around me eased.

“So, how’s it feel to be used as trash by strangers?”

“Mmmm” I said. I was sore, but this had still been amazing

More bags came out until I was once again half covered, and I felt the chain at my neck go slack, but not totally released.

“So, I have a proposition for you” Shelly said. I looked up at her through the lenses of the mask.

“I can let you out tonight, and you can sneak home and clean yourself up, but that’s that for this weekend… But here’s the thing. I still can’t get over how sexy I find owning you as my trash, and I want you to stay. I’ll leave you with some room and comfy in there, and I promise I’ll reward you beyond your wildest dreams tomorrow if you stay as my trash tonight. What do you say… One grunt to get out, two to stay.”

I didn’t know what I wanted. I grunted once and looked up at her. She was expectant and starting to look crestfallen. Once again hearing Shelly talk about owning me and that I was her trash had turned on that wonderfully stupid part of my brain. I grunted a second time, and she squealed!

“Ohh! I knew it you little trash-slut. You just can’t get enough, can you? You’re the best.” She reached in and pulled off the hood which had gotten stifling and hot. With her copy of my key, she undid the gag I’d been wearing for far too long with an admonition that trash doesn’t speak, “unless it wants to be packed in again for real”.

After drinking a bunch of gatorade she offered, I stretched my jaw and curled up among the soft bags, and felt one big, warm squishy one land back on top of me.

“Well, I’m going to go sleep off this party and dream of you being my trash down here. A girl could get used to this. Wait til’ you see what I’ve got cooked up for my trash tomorrow. I promise it’ll be worth it!”

I didn’t dare speak to tell her that it already was. She closed the lid, pressed it down, and locked it for the last time that night.

“g’night trash.”


Want to read more? Let me know at, and give me some ideas!


  1. Always loved this story and hoping for the next part. 🙂 Maybe have him be stuffed into one large bag surrounded by smaller ones?

    1. Make sure you send him a note at to encourage him – I’m curious how this plays out, myself!