Work Text:
* This is from the perspective of the Pringles can *
I always knew life had more to offer to me then what the others said. Although being created by hands did have its perks. It meant that I was always being touched. You have to understand….us Pringles cans have a filling kink.
So when the first load of those delectable but also so…so big crisps - they even had a bend so they hit just right- shot in me. Oh my god! It was amazing. Holding the load until someone slowly emptied me. Well let’s me honest you fat fuckers chomp away pretty fast at my insides. But I don’t blame you, I am pretty tasty. Although I enjoy those who tease me. Taking a few now and again until I am worn down and destroyed. Oh! You people really know how to get me going.
But after a while of having the families hands inside of me, stretching me out so Paul could get his sausage looking ass hand in me (I was never as tight again 😩✋🏻) it got boring. My cardboard outer layer craved something different. Something more in control of what I could have and do. It made my lid pulse and my insides all warm; although that could of be because of all the hands that were inside of me before, family movie nights you know 🙄 ).
No one was going to want me now. I was clearly well used. No one wants that in a Pringles can. They want them new and fresh. I felt cheap. Like the sketchy shops that sell food almost too cheap to not be out of date cheap. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I just wanted something different. But maybe….my past will always haunt me. The about of times I have been passed around may catch up with me if I want to move on to something new and better.
I laid there, between Paul’s sweaty dad work all day thighs and I took a deep breath and do you know what I smelt… besides Paul’s BO and decreasing sperm count as he looks at his five kids and menopausal wife. I smelt change in the air. I thought ‘hey why should I be held back by the life I lived inside of the live I have left to live’. It was my time.
I saw my chance to finally take charge when I saw Mary-Ann carry me to the tiny bin they had in the living room. It was one of those small bins that had a foot press to get it up. A big old can like me would never fit in there. But I guess that’s the fun of it. Her pushing me down harder as she tries to take me all. Ugh the pleasure of it all made my mind swim in happiness.
The bin looked scared to take this load. But as the lid flew open I could tell she was ready. She was wide just like me. Perfect. There would be no judging here. Just what I needed. But she was short in length ready for my stretching. I fly in with a good pace as I get her taking a deep breath in preparation of me filling her.
It made me feel powerful when she creaked with the lid coming down. Her springs clamped on me and held me there. I could feel her getting wetter and wetter under me. But that could of been the justice box to at explodes after I was put in here. Never the less it was bliss. The lid got stronger and harder as she was so desperate for me to fit inside of her. This may be where I finally find my happiness. Finally where I can be the filler and not be filled.
It was great. After we finished I was put into a bigger bin. But that was no fun. It was an orgy. There was everything from an old hoover to the scraps of food. What a slag. She’s had everything run through her. God. I miss her already. I wonder if she will miss me xoxo