[Officelover]

Part Two: The First Lesson


The man lets the woman breathe – heaving, pacified. He pulls a carton out of his back pocket, and lights a cigarette through the thin mouth-hole in his spotless white mask. She breathes out, he breathes in; he exhales in her face. He is calm, she’s too scared to say anything much. He draws in again, and again again. Then, he silently taps his cigarette against the side of her neck as the warm ash slips down her shoulder. She starts to shout but stops herself.
“Common household trash cans.” The man says, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Our society doesn’t care enough about them. They’re what caused this whole global warming, you know. Not the cars, not the paper… People don’t think about where their trash goes. They must think the garbage truck is the gateway to another dimension.” He breathes, once more into her face. She coughs into her black ball gag. “It doesn’t go away, you know. And now they have this recycling bullshit – separate the bottles from the cans, whatnot. Do you know how much energy it takes to recycle all that plastic that never should have been used in the first place?”
The man puffs out one last time. He slides the cigarette down the front of her trash bag. “I bet you’re wondering where you are and how you got here. I took care of all those logistics. But why, you may ask, did I go through all this trouble? Part of it is to give me a little amusement, a little light in these dark hours. But, for the most part, I take trash like you in to educate. I consider myself one of the greatest ecologists of our time. I teach people, one by one, the value of reducing and reusing. None of this easy-fix recycling eco-nonsense. By the end of our little seminar, I think you’ll have a good idea why you shouldn’t waste, or litter, as I’ve seen you do three times.”
He looks over her fairly pretty face, with its short eyelashes, hazel eyes, and reddened lips. He pulls her straight chestnut hair out of the trash bag, letting the ends of it fall three or four inches past the edge of the bag. She shakes her head, trying to get him to stop, but he steadies it with strong hands.
He continues to widen the hole at the top of the bag, working it down fairly quickly until it reaches her bare breasts. He squeezes them once before she squeals. He laughs and says, “You’re right, best save them for later.” (She only now notices his white rubber gloves.)
The man pauses, and produces two large ropes from underneath the table. He peels more of the plastic coating off her shivering body, until both her arms are free. He unlocks the handcuffs, pulls her arms back and relocks them around the central pole. He then peels the rest of the bag off her skin, pulling the husk off her corn-legs, leaving the woman utterly naked. She flails her legs a bit – attempting feebly to kick him. It doesn’t work. He takes the rope and frogties her, tightly touching her feet to her butt cheeks.
He succeeds in making her feel completely vulnerable. Gagged, tied to a pole, utterly immobile, tits and cunt exposed. He steps back, almost as if to admire his creation. He sighs, and steps forward.
“First, I want you to get to know the trash.” He tells her.
The man goes over to the door and picks up the trash can. It’s just a typical trash can – the kind you might keep in an office. It’s small, black, and filled to the top with various different items. He places it on the table next to her.
“Do you recognize this? It’s yours. Trash I collected from your home. Let’s see what we have here, now.” He rummages through it, still wearing the gloves.
The first thing he comes across is an old apple core. “You let so much of this core go to waste!” He says, as he rubs it pensively on her cheek.
Second, he comes across a yogurt container, which still contained a good amount of yogurt in it. He sighs, shakes his head, and gladly holds the container over her head as the yogurt meandered down in clumps onto her hair. He rubs it in thick into her hair, shampooing it with the stuff.
The next thing he discovers is a mostly empty can of soda, which he first drips on her arm, then crushes against her head.
The man now pulls some food wrappers, which he separates into two distinct piles. He tells her that one pile is ‘excusable’ and, another larger pile is ‘inexcusable’. The excusable wrappers he stuffs into a bag he has under the table. The inexcusable wrappers he keeps on the table. He then pulls out all of the used Kleenex, and adds them to the pile. He compresses the tissue and wrappers into two balls. He takes the first, and places it near the woman’s cunt. He spreads her ass cheeks as she attempts to make noise. He shoves the ball between her cheeks.
“I suppose I’ll have to prevent you from making so much noise!” He takes off her gag, as she curses at him, and stuffs the woman’s mouth full with the wrappers and tissues she’d only thrown away days ago. The man then replaces and reties the gag on her mouth, effectively silencing her.
“Don’t swallow any, now.” He says, as he pulls out a tube of toothpaste from the trash can. “You are so careless. You could have used this tube twice, maybe three more times.” He expertly, exactingly rolls the tube up, pushing a huge glob onto the tip of his index finger. The man seems content with his job, and proceeds to finger her pussy with the stuff. For a few brief seconds, it just feels cool and sticky. Then, very quickly, she acts as though she’s in excruciating pain. The young woman makes noise, but it’s almost undetectable through her stuffed mouth.
The man next pulls out some junk mail, and says, “Now, unfortunately, even I have to forgive you for having this stuff. This, however, is one of the few instances in which you need to recycle. So for that,” he says, taking each of the three pieces of mail, “you must be punished.” Each letter he swiftly and decisively swings across her body. He hits each one of her breasts, aiming for the nipple, three times with each article of mail.
He takes out two used tea bags, still moist, and jauntily places each one on her eyes for a bit, just letting them sit. While they are in, he takes out an old, mostly black banana and sets it next to her. Then, the man removes her tea bags.
He takes a can of cat food out, and places the few remaining scraps of chicken on her stomach. He throws the can into the plastic bag beneath the table. He takes out some coffee grinds next and smears them all over her face, then dumps the remainders on her stomach.
He crumbles egg shells on her face.
He wipes orange peels on her tits.
He smiles, seemingly satisfied, and then says, “Almost empty. But you left something else in your trash didn’t you?” He holds up the old banana, black with yellow spots. He puts the banana close to her vagina, still sensitive from the toothpaste. He says to her, “You might enjoy this.” He slides it into her pussy, slowly letting it slip within her. When it’s about a third of the way in, he thrusts it in and out a bit. Her body is indeed enjoying it, but she won’t let him find that out. She is silent – mortified, dignified.
He pushes it in more. It’s as if he is attempting to push it in so it will stay. But he takes it all the way at the last minute. He begins fucking her with the banana, like normal, but with extreme intensity. This lasts about fifteen minutes. She is about ready to cum. He just keeps digging in deeper and deeper with it. Until. He squeezes it, from both sides. The fleshy interior begins poking its way out. The fruit is now doing the penetrating. He pulls off the peel and lets the nasty, squishy rotten fruit do all the work. She finds it disgusting; he finds it hilarious.
He pulls out just before she can cum. He slaps her cunt, takes a bite out of the banana. He squashes the rest of the mushy fruit in her face. She is put in a new trash bag and told to sleep in it, she’ll need some rest.