No Littering

Marlene wasn't sure why she had decided to come with three friends and four guys on camping trip. It had not been what she expected at all. No campsite by a pretty lake. Well there was a lake but it was down the trail from the campsite on an island in the middle of a bog where a slow spring fed stream meandered down to the lake. Totally isolated and when the light breeze blew there was a foul stink of rot from the bog.

When the campout turned out to be a sex and bondage party she went along at first but complained about the smell, the bugs, the tight bindings, being hung from a tree so all four guys could spin her around and fuck her. They used her mouth and pussy but when one of the guys forced his cock into her rear, then a snake came out of the tree and down her ropes she had started to really scream and bitch at the others.

Surprisingly, it was one of the girls that stuffed a ball gag in her mouth to silence her.

The guys cut her down and tossed her into the pile of food wrappings, scraps and empty bottles and left her there, still bound up, for the rest of the night. They did throw a tarp over her and the pile and stake it down so animals would not get to it easily. At least she was warm and dry when it rained, that was the only good thing about the whole trip.

When the others woke up the next morning and started to pack up to leave, her friend Julie came over and pulled off the tarp before removing the ball gag. Marlene immediately started cursing and complaining about the campout, the guys, and what her "so-called" friends had gotten her into. And then she complained about all the trash. The campsite was nothing but a mess of litter, she complained. Julie and one of the guys simply grabbed her and fastened the gag in her mouth and left her lying in the trash.

They were loading their camping gear into the truck when the old cast iron hibachi grill fell off the tailgate and broke as it landed on a rock. They took a large plastic bag and tossed in the heavy iron grill and all the empty wine and beer bottles along with the used condoms and other garbage. Bill walked over to Marlene and adjusted her ankle ties to serve as a hobble so she could walk with tiny steps.

Bill led Marlene to the side of the campsite and had her sit with her naked ass in the mud. He dragged over the big bag of trash and proceeded to tie it closed with a long rope. Looping the rope around Marlene's ankle hobble, he tied the loose end to the trash bag. This left Marlene with a ball gag, her arms bound to her sides and her hands tied to the rope around her hips with lines running under her crotch to prevent her lifting her hands. Her ankles were connected by about one foot of hobble - with a ten foot loop to the trash bag passing between her legs and over the hobble rope.

The four guys and the other three girls joined Bill and watched as he turned and spoke to Marlene.

"You did your best to spoil our weekend. And then complained about how we were spoiling this natural setting with our litter. The same natural setting that you did nothing but complain about. The smell, the filthy mud, the snakes and bugs." Bill said.

"Well you are about to find out why there is no litter or sign of all the campout parties we had had here."

Two guys picked up the trash bag and with a swing and three count tossed it out into the bog. Weighted with the broken cast iron hibachi, it started to sink into the muck. As each empty bottle filled with the muddy water, the bag lost buoyancy and sank a bit faster.

The other two guys stood up Marlene and left her standing about a foot into the bog on a shallow spot.

Marlene did not yet realize what was happening and struggled to stay standing, but each step seemed to press the opposite foot deeper into the bog. She tried to move toward the higher ground but the rope connected to the now sunken trash bag pulled her away with each step.

She sank deeper until the muck reached her hips and hands and she finally understood that her movements were only helping her sink. Remembering a cable channel show about how to survive quicksand, she tipped backwards to keep her face out of the wet mud and began to "skull" with her hands toward the high ground.

This might have worked had she not had an iron anchor tied to her ankles. Instead of floating on top of the mud with its greater density than water, her feet sank following the heavy trash bag into the deep bog.

As the mud crept over her breasts, Marlene began to cry. The gag prevented her from begging but she still thought this was just payback for all her bitching.

Twisting around to see the others put real fear in her as she watched them climb in the truck and drive off.

In just a few more minutes the bog surface was flat, disturbed only by a few bubbles bursting as the last air in Marlene's lungs slipped past the gag that prevented her from closing her mouth. As her body settled down to the bottom where the anaerobic bacteria would soon reduce all the sunken litter to muck, the campsite looked pristine and natural.

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03.07.16