Time dragged on.. Matt cursed, or rather wanted to curse, wanting to know how much time he had left. A few minutes in he started trying to count seconds, then minutes. Unfortunately with nothing to pace himself off but his own thoughts he quickly started to question his own count and gave up. Was he stuck? Not wanting to dive down that train of thought he began looking around, well look wasn't quite right, focusing on object after object in the room. It was hard to make out anything up on shelves or dressers from his vantage point. But he recognized his knickknacks nevertheless, sort of cataloging them, anything to keep his mind off of his condition for a few more minutes. A few more minutes that might see him revert back or his friend return to save him.
He quickly ran out of knickknacks and memory trails to go down however, which just left... the other content of this trash can. Something about that stung, the 'other' contents. He'd just lumped himself in with the refuse he'd thrown away this week. Was that all he was going to be another piece of trash casually discarded? A single-use masturbatory-aid? A Cum-dum-
No! No, no, he might not know how much time was left but he couldn't be too long now, he'd turn back and minute, NO and second... yeah any second now. He started counting seconds again. He wasn't going to wind up as simple trash, as a one and done cum-du- no don't even think it. He just wasn't. Time dragged on as he slowly spiraled in on himself despite his best efforts. There was no more denying it, the sunlight coming into the room had started to fade. It hadn't just been an hour, it had been hours. He'd been sitting in this trash can for hours, his 'friend' had left him here for hours, he'd been trash for hours.
If something in him had broken before it well and truly shattered now. He thought he'd be in more of a panic, lashing out, looking for a solution. Instead he felt lethargic, tired, like his thoughts were coming to him slowly. His 'friend' Ben had used him as a masturbatory aid, little else but a cum-dump, used his shower, stolen his clothes, thrown him away, and left him. Hours had past and his 'friend' hadn't shown the concern to even check up on him after using him like that. Matt was mad, impotently but furiously mad, if he ever got out of this he'd slug that no-good 'friend' of his.
Who was he kidding? It'd been his idea from the word go. He was the one who'd turned himself into a condom, brilliant. He was the one who'd asked Ben to use him like a condom. Had Ben gone along too easily, had he gone too far? Maybe, but he hadn't done anything Matt hadn't asked for on some level. Matt thought back on it, how hot it had been, if only he could get out this he'd probably do it again-just more carefully next time-.
If there ever was a next time he reminded himself. He felt the cold, dry surfaces of the paper, and tissues surrounding him. The cold hardness of the bit of trash bin he was in contact with. Felt the heat, or more likely the memory of heat, from the sperm wiggling and dying inside him. This was going to be his home now. Well, until someone came along and took him to the dump. Then he'd get to look forward to being crushed, likely popped and spending the rest of his days alone in a landfill somewhere.
Of course unbeknownst to Matt, Ben had seen the Chronivac's countdown timer on the desk. With nearly a full hour before the transformation was set to reverse Ben had decided to head out for the day, confident his friend would be fine and they could talk another day. Of course what he hadn't counted on was that Matt's original timer had only been an hour long. That it had been constantly resetting while Matt was 'in use.' The chronivac had muted itself after its third attempt at warning the room leaving no evidence of Matt's predicament besides an hourly timer slowly looping itself, waiting for conditions to be right to change him back.