Trash Bag Whore Ch. 02
The next morning, my alarm went off promptly at 8:30am. I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Sir. His instructions rang in my ears: "Tomorrow morning, I want you to wake up at 8:30am and head directly to the mess hall. Don't dilly-dally messing with your outfit or your hair. Just get dressed and get your breakfast as quickly as you can. I will meet you there after you've eaten. Wait for me out on the deck, in one of the corners near the exit." I dressed quickly and quietly, then headed down to the main mess hall. Breakfast wouldn't start until 9, but a line would start forming at 8:45. I got there at 8:40 and was first in line. I made small talk with other campers until breakfast was served, then dutifully loaded up my plate and took it outside to the deck to eat. I wasn't very hungry, but I guessed that I would need my energy for whatever Sir had in mind.
Sir arrived just as I was taking my last few bites of toast. "Good morning, Sir!" I chirped cheerfully, tilting my head up for a kiss.
Instead, he grabbed my hair and led me to stand up, kissing me roughly. "Hello, whore," he said. "Strip. Now." I gulped, but didn't ask any questions as I obeyed and removed my clothing. Sir was obviously in the mood to play rough, and I didn't want to give him any reasons to punish me. I watched as he tucked my clothing carefully inside his bag, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. My heart started beating faster. Usually, Sir told me to fold me clothing neatly and leave it somewhere close by. Taking it away was a clear indication that I wouldn't be allowed to get dressed anytime soon. I was so dazed and horny that I almost didn't register the box of large black trash bags he'd been carrying. He opened this now, took one out, and spread it flat on the floor in a far corner of the deck, away from the eating tables. "Kneel here." I did as he commanded.
As he walked behind me to lock my collar around my neck, I ventured to ask meekly, "Sir... what are we doing?" He ignored me. Instead, he focused on fastening my collar and putting my wrist cuffs on, clipping my wrists together behind my back and then attaching them to. Short length of chain to the back of my collar. This of course had the intended effect of thrusting my breasts outward and on display. When I saw him pick up the blindfold, I tried again. "...Sir?" I asked nervously.
He knelt in front of me. "Spread your thighs. What are your safe words?"
"Red, yellow, and green," I replied dutifully, shuffling my legs open.
"Good girl." He fastened the blindfold around me now. "From this point forward, those are the only words you are allowed to speak. Do you understand?" I nodded meekly. "Good." I felt his lips against the shell of my ear now, and I shuddered in pleasure. "You will sit here quietly as people eat their breakfasts, and you will keep quiet and keep your position no matter what happens in, on, or around you. Do you understand? Nod or shake your head." My breathing quickened and I nodded. "If you move without permission, I will clamp your nipples. If you speak without permission, I will gag you. Do you understand?" I nodded again. Suddenly his fingers were rubbing my clit and whimpered, rocking my hips against him. He pulled away quickly, wiping my wetness on the side of my face. "Good girl. Stay." I heard his footsteps recede.
I knelt quietly, listening to the sounds around me. I could hear the chatter and laughter as the mess hall filled with hungry campers. I knew that I was in a corner of the deck where I would not be tripped over, but I was also in a spot that was hard to miss visually. I felt completely helpless, in the most delicious of ways.
I am completely ignored for the entirety of the meal. No one speaks to me or acknowledges me. 'This isn't too bad,' I think to myself, relaxing slightly.
I hear the morning announcements begin, and the room quiets. I zone out for a few minutes until I hear the following words: "Also, apologies for the inconvenience, but you'll notice that we had to remove most of the trash cans from the deck; we needed to relocate the others for a few hours. So everyone please be sure to use the trash receptacle located in the far back corner."
Huh. That was weird. I wondered why would they need to relocate the--
I gasp in surprise as something cold and sticky is immediately dumped directly on top of my head almost as soon as the emcee finishes his sentence. The entire room erupts into laughter, including the emcee over the microphone. "Thanks for understanding, and have a great day!"
My mouth had fallen open in surprise, and I could taste soda. Flushed red with embarrassment, I closed my mouth and kept position, determined to make Sir proud. As soon as I'd relaxed, thinking the worst was over, I felt something cold and viscous fall on my left breast. A finger slowly dragged through it, over my nipple, causing me to shudder and buck my hips involuntarily. Then it was gone. I kept my posture as whatever had landed on me dripped down onto my thigh, wishing the finger had stayed longer.
SPLAT! Something lands with force, as though it's been thrown at me from several feet away. Something small hits me squarely on the cheek and explodes sticky wetness all over my face. I can smell it this time: maple syrup.
The abuse continues throughout breakfast. People mostly ignored me, except for when they were finished eating and needed to scrape their plates before placing them in the cleanup bins. Occasionally someone deigns to touch me, pinching a nipple here or smacking a thigh there. I can't see, but I can smell the bits of egg, pancakes, and lots of varying drinks and condiments all over my body.
I kneel quietly as the mess hall empties, folks going off to start the day's activities. I cry out when I feel a few hard smacks on my breast, then I hear Sir's voice. "Good girl." He unhooks my wrists from behind me and removes my blindfold. "Stand." As I do, the large bits of trash fall to the makeshift tarp on the floor. I am a sticky, dirty mess. Sir looks me up and down. "What a filthy, disgusting whore you are." I blush and look down, but there's no denying the fire between my legs.
"Hold this." It's an empty trash bag. He hooks my leash onto my collar and leads me to the fence near the pool. I eye him nervously as he removes short length of chain and a combination lock from his bag. "I am going to chain you to this fence. The combination to the lock will be written on your back. If and when someone needs a trash bag, they may remove you and lock you up elsewhere. You will collect any and all trash given to you. If your bag becomes too full, you will ask the next person who approaches you to 'please chain this trash bitch to the dumpster where she belongs.' " My eyes had gone wide, and I realized that I was whimpering softly. "Oh, and any time you need to put the bag down, for any reason, you are required to lay on the ground and edge at least three times," he continued. "You may not beg to cum. Each time you edge, you will say aloud, 'I am a dirty trash bag whore and I don't deserve to cum.' You will then immediately stop touching for at least one minute before your next edge."
Sir grinned at the look of dismay on my face. "One more thing." He reached into his pocket and dug out a Sharpie. Uncapping it, he took a few moments to scrawl all over my body. When he was finished, 'CAMP PROPERTY' was emblazoned in large letters across my chest, with "USE ME" right underneath on my belly. My right thigh read 'DON'T LET ME CUM' while my left thigh had an arrow pointing upwards towards my pussy and the words 'CUM DUMPSTER'. I wasn't sure what was written on my back aside from the lock combination, but I was certain it was more of the same.
I almost begged him right then and there to have mercy. "Sss--" I started, but caught myself just in time.
He raised an eyebrow at me, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Would you like to say something?" I shook my head quickly. "Good." Reaching his hand down, he plunged a finger into my gushing cunt and pumped it in and out a few times, then switched to rubbing my clit. I clenched the trash bag in my hand as if it would somehow help me, grinding my pussy against his hand.
I was back on the edge within two minutes. "I... I..." I gasped.
He kept rubbing. "Was there something you wanted to ask me, pet?"
My voice shook as I forced the words out. "I'm... I'm a d-dirty trash bag whore and I d-d-don't..." I gasped for breath. "...deserve to c-cum."
"Well..." He took his hand away and wiped my wetness on the one clean thigh I had left. "Then you won't." I let out a sob, pleading with my eyes, unconsciously spreading my legs even wider.
He grinned, then placed the blindfold back over my head. "Have a good day, trash bag whore." I could hear his boots he walked off, leaving me chained to the fence with my dripping pussy.
- As I knelt on the makeshift tarp, I was tasked with collecting any trash given to me, forming a chain of events involving the objectification of my body as 'Camp Property' and being labeled as a 'Dirty Trash Bag Whore'.
- The messy play continued throughout breakfast with various objects, including soda and maple syrup, being dumped on me, leading to a state of edging and denial of my female orgasm.
- Sir's unique method of punishment involved making me say 'I am a dirty trash bag whore and I don't deserve to cum', while also chaining me to a fence and requiring me to edge three times whenever I needed to put the trash bag down.
- 'Trash Bag Whore Ch. 02' showcased a theme of teasing and denial, as my Sir took pleasure in denying my orgasm while also subjecting me to various acts of objectification and mess play, blending themes from glamping and camping experiences.