© Copyright 2014 - Tammy Murfin - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-M; F/m; D/s; diapers; trash; waste; compactor; conveyor; encased; disposal; sex; climax; cons; X
Trash Isme, the Disposal Solutions garbage truck driver and part time delivery guy, woke up on Monday morning at his usual 10 am. His delivery job started when the 11 am train pulled in so he still had an hour before he had to be at the Green Valley train station up on the hill. He took his time getting cleaned up and dressed in his newest, and cleanest, work clothes. The company jump suit just did not fit anyone well, but it did let him hide the special adult diaper he figured he would need on this day more than most.
Today was his second full year on the job and the company made sure that every employee got an initial review at 30 days and then an annual performance review from their superior on the anniversary of getting hired. This scared the piss out of Trash, unfortunately, for him this was often literally true, hence the diaper. It was not so much the review of his work that frightened Trash, he was sure that had exceeded expectations. Rather, it was being alone with his Supervisor.
Miss Tamarra Sands was a big woman. Not fat, she stood 6' 2" without her work boots and with her 48-34-40 curvy body and blond hair, even in a bun, she looked like a fertility goddess. She was Chief Operator of Disposal Solutions transfer station, sort of foreman but all of the men working for her thought of her as more of a Head Mistress. That carried a lot of other connotations, since Tamarra had worked in her teens and 20’s as a prostitute. She specialized at being a Mistress to men wanting to be dominated and forced to please her impressive sexual desires.
Trash had a few kinky perversions himself, including three main ones. He loved to have sex in a pile of trash with a willing girl, something he had recently accomplished with his neighbor Tammy Murfin. His second dream was inspired by his weak bladder and frequent incontinence. He had dreams of being bundled into a huge pile of diapers and disposed of. But his third fantasy was to be a slave to a strong Mistress. Knowing what his boss had done for years made any time he spent alone with her a terrifying experience.
Trash just knew he'd someday call her Mistress and not Miss Tamarra. And if he did not piss himself, he was just likely to get hard and distracted thinking of being bound with her using his face to rub her crotch..
"Aw shit, 10:45", he said to himself as he ran outside to his ancient pickup. "Come on you junk heap, start" as he pumped the gas to fill the carburetor bowl and pulled the manual choke. Fortunately the weather had been warm and dry and the old '53 truck cranked and started right up. There was no road into Green Valley, so to get a vehicle in here meant leasing a flat car, getting it loaded and switched to the Disposal Solutions tracks, easily doubling the cost of any vehicle he could afford. With the nearest auto parts store a 5 hour or over-night round trip, and no local mechanics, just the maintenance guy at work. Well, the old beast could be kept running with duct tape, baling wire, and plastic from trash bags, all readily available.
All this was running through Trash's mind as he drove up the hill and parked by the company office. Seeing the train dumping the next to last hopper car, he hurried to the stairs and up to the passenger platform to off load and sign for his deliveries. It was a mix of mail, UPS and FEDEX parcels, and some company papers. Since Green Valley was wholly owned by Disposal Solutions, the company agent in the big city accepted all G.V. deliveries and shipped them to the Valley for Trash to deliver. Trash was relieved to see it was a light load for a Monday. It would be easy to finish and get back to the office for his 3 pm appointment with the boss. And it would give him a chance to change his diaper before meeting Mistress, uh, Miss Tamarra.
The day went smoothly for Trash and he parked his old truck by the office at 2:55 and walked in punctually for his 3 pm review. Promptly at 3 pm, Tamarra stepped out of her office and said, “Come in Trash, I hope you’re ready to discuss your performance and my expectations.”
Trash just nodded looking at her, a bit like a rabbit hypnotized by the eyes of a python, and followed her into her office.
“Close that door will you Trash?” she said.
Trash pushed the door closed, and did not notice that it was set to lock, taking a key from both sides, a key only Tamarra had.
Sitting at her desk, Tamarra shuffled papers till she found Trash’s. “Now Trash, you had a review last year, so you may think you know what to expect. We rate what you’ve done, set expectations for next year, go over anything to improve on or to be learned. But there’s another step in the process starting in year two which we will get to later.”
“First, you do two jobs, deliveries, and also driving the local collection truck. I am impressed with all the nice comments I hear about your deliveries, well done”. Tamarra writes ‘Exceeds Expectations’ on the form. “Though I must say, most of them end with saying ‘when his truck makes it’. Well I have a way for you to address that problem and it’s part of that new section of your performance review that I will get to later. Let’s just say I may be able to help you get a new vehicle, but you will need to put in some extra effort to earn it.”
“Your second job, collecting the garbage from the Valley residents and offices, is done well and consistently on time. Now I know you are probably worried about me finding you fucking that Murfin girl in the back of the truck the other day. Probably figured I’d just give you a Meets Expectations not Exceeds. Well I told you not to worry, I really don’t care if you screw some trashy slut in there – as long as you don’t do it mid-day and block the tip floor operations. I’m giving you an ‘Exceeds’ on that one as well, BUT...”
“If some piece of trash complains about you fucking her, your ass will be on probation or worse and all this easy living will be at risk. So like I told the two of you, it’s a LOT easier to clean up by disposing of the trash when you’re done with it. Anyone that enters the Valley has to sign off that once they are IN garbage, they ARE garbage. Tammy’s fucking you behind her boyfriend’s back, and he’s MY boss. So if she ever complains, or he does, it’s anyone’s guess whether it’s her ass or YOUR ass that gets bagged and burned. And that’s your last warning.”
Trash could not look at Tamarra’s eyes, blushing, both for the way she had just told him she would dispose of him or Tammy, and because he was glad to be wearing his now warm and wet diaper. Tamarra sighed, noticing he was no longer looking at her face. “My eyes are up here, Trash,” cupping her bountiful breasts and bouncing them, “not here.”
Tamarra looked at the papers, marked the ‘Exceeds Expectations’ on the second job and then continued, “Now, about improvements and training. The company’s trying to attract more residents to the housing, obviously that will increase the workload in both of your jobs. I expect you to keep up and that’s sufficient improvement. As to training, I want to teach you the tip floor equipment operations, so that if you bring in the load late you can process it instead of just leaving it in the tip pit.”
“Any questions Trash?”
“No Mistress,” said Trash, before his eyes go wide realizing what he said, and he stammers “I mean Mistress Tamarra, uh, Miss Tamarra.”
Tamarra chuckled, a low throaty sound as she smiled. Standing up, she unbuttoned her blouse to reveal her black leather corset with push up support and no bra. Reaching behind to unhook the waistband of her skirt and let that drop to the floor to reveal her black silk garter belt with straps down to fishnet stockings and revealing that she wore and no panties.
Opening her desk drawer, she removes some silk binding cords and a flogger. “I think ‘Mistress Tamarra’ will do nicely, but if you ever say that in public, I will make sure you regret it,” and snaps the flogger on the desk. “Now, I want you to get out of that jumpsuit and let me inspect you. Call it a company health check, I must be sure lifting all those packages and trash bags isn’t hurting you.” Trash obediently unzipped his clothes and slowly lowered them until his diaper was revealed.
“Well that’s interesting. It seems you have been hiding something, eh Trash? Whoa, stop right there. Have you more of those in your truck?” asked Tamarra.
“Yes Mistress Tamarra,” Trash replied.
“Good, zip that suit up, go get another and bring in the diaper pail from the day care room.” Glancing at her phone’s time display, she continued, “It’s 3:20, everyone else is in the break room for another ten minutes, so I want you back here quickly before they go out to the tip floor to prepare for the 4pm train. And don’t worry; I don’t need to be on the floor for an hour, plenty of time for me to finish appraising your performance. Let me unlock that door, just leave it open.” Tamarra smiled, wondering if any of her crew would stop in and discover her in her corset and garter belt with bare breasts, not too likely, but it could be fun.
While Trash went to get a fresh diaper from his truck, stashing it in the diaper pail so the other guys would not see it if they left the break room, Tamarra revised her plans for the rest of the appraisal. She has planned to have Trash begging to lick her and suck her sensitive tits, but now she realized she understood a bit more about Trash, the guy wore diapers, loved to collect and play in trash, and had no qualms or challenges when she had told him he might need to dispose of a play partner if she proved troublesome. This was a kink she had heard about, but never dealt with when she worked as a hooker. This guy probably had wet dreams, and not the ones about peeing, when he thought about being packed up and squeezed in with a bunch of messy diapers.
Now Tamarra was a versatile and creative sexual player, and being very cynical about the value of life, she did enjoy all the special opportunities her work gave her to dispose of unusual trash. And here was Trash, eager to please his Mistress, dreaming of being stuffed into a pile diapers. Since Disposal Solutions was about to start a pilot program for the big city, one that would have the city’s customers doing some of the pre-sorting by separating trash and having moving barriers between sections of the city compaction trucks. Normal trash would be picked up as usual by the older rear loading units and a new side loading recycling truck with the partitions that would take ‘brown’ compost garbage; paper and boxes; and then plastics and glass; and a fourth section that was initially intended for diapers and pet waste. The city would keep the paper and boxes and sell that, Disposal Solutions would receive the rest of these pre-sorted loads in separate train cars, color coded for their contents. Brown went to the shredder and mulch pile, glass was smashed, shaken and separated from the plastic which went to the incinerator.
What the company wanted to try was a hard compaction of the diapers to reduce liquid content and make the remaining paper and plastic lined diapers suitable for the incinerator – they were far too wet for a direct load in any quantity. This meant that the old bulk compactor used to handle the heavier items headed to landfill had been replaced by a bigger one with special drainage. It could crush refrigerators, washing machines, old bicycles and such in one load and then compress diapers into a hard solid mass, a bit like a fire log all ready to be burnt. This meant that it needed an operator to control the compaction force and be able to stop it if the waste drainage plumbing got obstructed. So why not let Trash have some fun, and test the new controls? Surely that was of value to the company and worth a bonus – like help with that new truck.
It was at that moment that Trash returned to Tamarra’s office. “Trash, put the bin over there and then strip. Put the old diaper in the bin, but be a good boy and try to pee before you take it off so you don’t have to mop up my office.”
Trash was in the middle of what was either his worst nightmare, or a dream come true and could not decide. But he was obedient, replying, “Yes Mistress Tamarra.”
Tamarra walked around her desk and began to casually examine Trash, feeling his muscles on his arms, back and chest, then squatting to feel up his legs before cupping his balls and stroking his cock. Her attitude was cool and while she was examining him, like some ‘thing’ and not at all like an aroused man, she continued speaking.
“Now Trash, I mentioned one last part of your performance review. It involves you contributing to the future of Disposal solutions. How would you like to earn all the shipping costs on a new truck? Oh, and I may be able to arrange a regular monthly subsidy to help with payments too. All you need to do is help me test a new system for the company.”
Trash, was not totally lost, while she was squatting and fondling his cock, he could not resist reaching down to rub her breasts and roll her nipples between his fingers. Tamarra flexed her legs together, her pussy getting wet as he played with her tits. Smiling, she asked “any questions?” before she began to lick his cock.
“Yes Mistress Tamarra, what do you want me to do?” He chuckled a bit, “Besides lie down so you can use my cock as a dildo?”
“To quote one of my favorite actors, ‘Make it so’,” she said before continuing as Trash lay on his back. Tamarra continued speaking as she squatted over Trash and lowered her large shapely body onto his cock. “I am sure you have seen the new compactor we have installed. We intend to use it to do both the compaction of hard scrap for the landfill, and as a way to compress the fluids out of diapers to prepare them for incineration. That takes some precision control of the crushing pressure, and I need to find a way to determine the right amount of pressure to wring out the diapers without forming them into too hard a block as that would make them burn too slowly. What I need is someone inside the compactor with the diapers to let me know just when they are squeezed but not crushed.”
“After we finish I want to put you into that bin you brought in, roll it over to the compactor, and dump you in with all the rest of the load coming in on the 4 pm train. Then I apply pressure and when you say they feel dry enough – or you stop shouting, I will have my answer.”
Trash just about came hearing what she had planned, but managed to hold off as she slowed her up and down motion riding his cock.
Tamarra continued, “Of course there’s a bit of danger, so that’s where the hazardous duty pay comes in. You do this, and the company will ship in a truck and add $100 per month to help with the payments. Of course, you could be crushed if I can’t hear you say to stop or the diapers cover your face and muffle you. If that happens, I’ll just finish the process in the incinerator.”
This was too much and Trash all but bounced up off the floor just as Tamarra lowered herself. Thrusting deep into her soaking cunt, excited by her body and the thought of being discarded as trash in a pile of crushed diapers, his cock swelled more than he had ever experienced as he came inside her. Tamarra had one of her rare orgasms at that same moment, enjoying how she had done her job for the company while using Trash as both her fuck toy and now as her guinea pig for the new compactor.
“YESS, I will,” he screamed, or rather tried to scream, as Tamarra flopped forward so her breasts smothered his mouth.
When she had recovered her breath, Tamarra sat up, his cock still inside her, looked him in the eyes and said, “Good boy, your Mistress is pleased. Now, when I get up, I want you to go climb into that diaper bin, take the clean diaper with you and hold onto it so you have a way to compare a dry one to the others and gauge when the crushing has done its job. We have just enough time to get you in that compactor before the load of diapers is hauled in, the train’s due in about 15 minutes, and that’s the first car load.”
Trash tipped over the bin and backed into it, on top of his own wet one and opened up the new one to hold on to. Tamarra lifted it upright effortlessly, and before closing the lid, added. “I need you to sign this performance review, I think you know you got an overall ‘Outstanding’, with annotations for continuing employment and recommending a full 4% raise.” Bringing the form over to the diaper bin on a clipboard with a pen, she let Trash sign it before she closed the lid over his head.
Tamarra left the clipboard on her desk, unlocked her office door, grabbed the bin’s handle and tipping it with her foot, rolled it out and over to the tip floor next to the sorting chute emptying into the new compactor. All the crew members were over by the train station as the 4pm was just pulling in, the white diaper car in the lead. The skip loader was all ready to scoop up the load and deliver it to the conveyor system leading to the same compactor.
“Look before you leap Trash, that first load came in this morning but I held it till last so it would be a full load test”. With that, Tamarra tipped the bin and dumped Trash and his two diapers into the half full compactor.
Wheeling the bin over by the door, she waved to the loader driver as he dumped the first of 4 loads of diapers into the conveyor bin and they marched up the belt and around to the chute before falling into the compactor, right on top of Trash. As soon as the last diapers were past the routing diverter, Tamarra switched the conveyor system to the shredder to handle the brown load of branches and grass clipping and other mulch material on the next hopper car.
Grabbing her cell phone, she opened the new control app that would soon replace all the archaic controls in the transfer station and walked back to the compactor. Logging in to the app, she saw the screen displaying a green button labeled ‘Crush’, a red button labeled ‘Stop’, and a yellow one for ‘Retract’ along with a pressure gauge, a digital value was displayed below the round gauge. This showed the back pressure in psi on the contents. A red zone showed when the compression was at its maximum. For this run, she would stop the compression well before the red zone, as soon as she heard from Trash, or did not.
There was a big gauge and similar buttons on a pillar besides the compactor, just in case the app lost contact or did not stay in sync. This test would verify both the app and determine the right loading for diapers. “Ready Trash?” she called out. The new compressor was much quieter than the old one and even with the conveyor system running she was able to hear him respond, “Yes, Miss Tamarra.” With that she pressed the green button and the compactor began to slowly compress the full load of diapers and Trash.
Every ten seconds, Tamarra called out, “More Trash?” and although the sounds got a bit fainter, she could still hear “Yesss” or maybe it was a hisss from the bags some of the diapers were in..
After about 40 seconds, she faintly heard, “STOP”. Noting the pressure readings, and that they agreed on both that physical gauge and the app display, she smiled. “Have to see how well they burn now,” she called out, while debating whether she should push the red stop button, or see if the supplier’s number was right, it called for about 20% more compression, another 20 seconds.
Tamarra finished up the test by releasing the back door to the compactor after swinging the landfill chute out of the way, and then let the compactor run again to push the compressed load out onto the new belt to the incinerator. As the squeezed diapers tumbled onto the belt, they flowed neatly up, over and into the already burning fires. Tamarra knew the automated system would shut down that conveyor when the last contents fell into the incinerator, so she pushed the retract button and then closed the back door of the compactor and swung the landfill chute back in place, all ready for a load of trash for the landfill.
Returning to her office, she filed the Performance Review after transmitting a copy to the Disposal Solutions HQ in the big city. Trash was quite a good employee, hardworking and eager to please, she sure hoped he had climbed off that conveyor before it got to the incinerator. After all this test might need to be repeated at the lower pressure he had called out about.