The Perishable Heart
Chapter 2
With visions of this teen beauty still dancing in my head, when I arrived home I
stroked myself like a brainless beast. In fact, I masturbated five times a day
for the next two days. That's more than I wanked the entire month. But this
young fresh thing, this girl with flesh that looked yummier to the eye than all
the delicacies in the world, touched my core like no other woman ever had. I
thought about her constantly for 48 hours straight. Then I received an unusual
e-mail: "Brandon, I just read your story on the internet on one of my favorite
sites. I couldn't believe that was you. You are soooooo cute. I can't wait to
see you. But I can't wait until Sunday. Please come over tonight. 8pm. Bring a
smile. Love, your mystery girl."
Wow. That was short, and sweet, and very hot. It drove me crazy all day and at
8pm sharp, I pulled up to her curb and took a deep breath. There was a strange
car in the driveway. Not her red Toyota hatchback, but another car: a black
Mercedes. I wasn't sure what to do. I waited until 8:10 then decided I had
better go for broke. I headed toward the door and pressed the buzzer. A
middle-aged man answered the door and I was aghast. "Ummmmm.. I'm sorry. I think
I have the wrong address." I managed to stammer.
I then turned and went back toward my car, cursing that young hottie under my
breath. The owners of the house had apparently returned, but my young beauty had
neglected to inform me. I felt like hell. Horny, but angry, as I sat in my car
and wondered my next step. I decided to go to back to the supermarket and hang
out in the parking lot. I was there until 10pm and fell into a light slumber.
When I awoke, there was a note on my windshield. I quickly got out of my car and
grabbed it. "Dear Brandon, I'm sorry but the Cheevers returned a few days
earlier than expected. If you're still interested in me please refrain from
masturbating (I know you've been pulling it like it was going out of style) and
meet me back at the frozen food section at 8pm on Sunday night. If you want to
have a relationship with me, you'll be there with bells on and with a nice gift
for me. Love and kisses, your mystery girl. PS: my cell phone number is
3*7-5*98. But only call it in case of an emergency."
I reread the note about 20 times. I decided to grin and bear it and do exactly
as she said. It wasn't easy, but I held back from wanking and met her at the
appointed time with a lump in my pants and a bigger one in my throat. It was a
full week since I had seen her and I was beyond hungry for her. It was pathetic,
I knew, but I needed her. I needed her and hated myself for needing her.
When our eyes finally met and she eyed the bouquet of white roses in my hand,
she only said one word: "bathroom." I ran there and waited for her before I
entered, looking both ways before I followed her in. She told me to wait by the
sink and I obliged, nervously watching the door as I heard her tinkle. When she
opened the stall door, she pointed to the toilet and told me further instructions
were floating inside and I should retrieve it. As I dove in, she told me to be at
check stand six in 4 minutes to pay for my groceries. I did as I was told and as
I headed for the cashier, I finally read her wet note. "Be at the Macy's parking
lot next Sunday afternoon at 3pm and be prepared pay for my happiness." At the
check stand, I pulled out my wallet and paid for her groceries. This time, it
cost me a whopping $150 dollars. But I didn't care. She was worth it, I thought.
She thanked me and as I loaded her Camry, she gave me a peck on the cheek. I
didn't see her again until the following Sunday in the mall parking lot. Her
written instructions were explicit. No wanking, she warned.
When I escorted her into Macy's, it was clear that she intended to bust the
bank, my bank. She spent over $300 on clothes and I almost complained, but she
saw the apprehension in my eyes and frowned. Then she slapped me across my face.
After I helped her load her car, she told me that she couldn't take me home
because of her parents, but that the Cheevers wanted her to housesit for the
entire summer. Just a few more weeks and she'd have me all to herself, she
promised. But she said she wanted to make sure I was honest. "Honest?" I asked.
"Chaste," she replied. "I want to make sure you're all mine until then. She told
me to meet her in front of the adult book store on 5th Street the following
Sunday night. I was so horny for this girl, I thought about rubbing one out
constantly, but refrained in deference to her. I truly didn't want to disappoint
her. When Sunday rolled around, I was in agony. She looked absolutely tasty in
front of the X-rated store in short shorts and a tank top and tennies, her
golden tresses in a yellow scrunchie. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I
ached for her like I didn't think possible. We entered the small store hand in hand
and a she was swift with her purchases. She chose up an unusual-looking cock
cage that I wasn't familiar with in my internet travels. It was a plastic and
rubber device and the store employee told is it was quite effective. My goddess
(she still didn't tell me her name) also bought an unusual looking butt plug:
one with nasty looking teeth around the base. I paid for them, naturally, then
drove, as per her directions, to our original rendezvous point: the grocery
store. There, she bought (with my money) a mini combination lock and, when we
returned to my car, she had me pull down my pants and fitted the cage on my
cock. We needed to wait a good 25 minutes for it to wilt, even with the help of
a cup of ice from the neighboring McDonald's, so she could finally padlock it,
spinning the numbers around, the numbers that only she knew.
"There, now you're mine. Be back at the Cheevers’ house three weeks from today.
I'll be there for the summer and I want you with me. See you then, Brandon, my
honeybear." With that, she gave me a peck on the cheek and walked to her car. She
didn't want me knowing her identity nor where her parents lived. I had a feeling
she lived close by but I just drove home, my cock aching in its prison, but my
heart aching even harder.
Waiting the three weeks was damn near impossible but I had no choice. I didn't
know where she lived nor how to contact her, but I knew where her housesitting
duties were and could only wait. When the time came, I showed up at the
appointed time and followed her directions to enter her bathroom silently and
strip. She checked out the cock cage and seemed to be satisfied that no monkey
business occurred. When I was nude, she attached a dog chain around my cock and
balls and padlocked it around the toilet. There was no slack for me to stand nor
reach the water pressure valve which she turned off.
"Now Brandon, I have a chore for you, my little toy. See that wastebasket over
there? I want you to empty it, but in my own special way," she added. "I want
you to ingest every thing in there, swallow it, and the only help you'll get is
the water in the toilet bowl. All you get is one flush, so be prudent and
conserve. I'm going to bed and when I wake up in the morning, I expect the
basket to be empty. If it's not, I don't ever want to see you again.
understand?" I was confused, and knew she could tell. "Brandon, what I'm telling
you is that if you can't swallow my bathroom waste, I'll know you're not
suitable for me. You have 7 hours, good luck, honeybear. With that, she turned
and left, shutting the door behind her.
I couldn't believe it. This chick whose name I didn't even know, had asked me to
eat her bathroom trash and if I couldn't follow through, she was going to dump
me. I had 7 hours and as I looked into the basket, I knew it would be tough. I
sifted through the contents and thought it was a crazy task. "Why was I here?" I
thought to myself. Then I thought of that sweet face and those green eyes. Who
could resist that killer body? I couldn't deny that angel anything and
immediately dove into my meal. On top of the basket were some used tissues. I
started to open them up and knew it was a mistake. It was apparent that in the
first one, she had blown her nose. So I gritted my teeth and soaked the tissue
in the toilet. I tore piece by piece off into my mouth and forced it down my
throat, dipping my head in the toilet to suck down some water to help it slide
down.
Next, I found a styrofoam cup with coffee stains and a smudged lipstick
imprint around the top. I chewed off a piece, then another and another, dunking
my head in the toilet for some more water. Then, I found a paper wrapper. It
covered a leftover Egg Mcmuffin that smelled rather rank. This would be tough,
I thought. I somehow managed to chew and swallow the old breakfast sandwich, but
tearing off piece by piece of the large paper wrapper proved difficult. I don't
know how I did it but I swallowed it all. Thinking of my teen princess sleeping
in her soft bed certainly helped. A half-eaten, but rock-hard bagel went down
rather easily when soaked in toilet water, but then the dental floss, which I
wadded up and swallowed with the help of a lot more water was way more
difficult. I dunked a couple of cotton balls stained with old makeup in the
toilet and swallowed them whole. But as morning approached, I realized that the
Q-tips, all 6 of them, laying at the bottom the basket and stained with makeup,
or god knows what else, would be a near impossible task. There was some more
toilet paper laying underneath, and I chewed and swallow that first. I don't
know what was inside nor did I try to identify the taste, but I held my breath
and forced it down. But those damn Q-tips. I tried to figure out several ways to
get them down my throat. But it was soon obvious that I could not, no matter how
hard I tried. I held all 6 Q-tips in my hand as I heard an alarm clock buzz. My
young goddess entered the bathroom about two minutes later and she saw me
holding the Q-tips. Words couldn't describe the disappointment and anger
registering on her face. All she said was to get dressed and get out. "Bbbbbbut..."
I stammered in a weak response. She just stared icepicks into me. "Bbbbbut
nothing." she mocked. "Get the fuck out, you worthless piece of shit. I'm
through with you." She unlocked my balls from the chain and threw my clothes
at me and I was home in under 25 minutes. I cried myself the entire ride home.
I couldn't believe it. I failed such a simple task. I was miserable and couldn't
sleep. I got very sick and had cramps and diarrhea for the next three days. I
even had to call in sick for work for two of those. The following day, I called
her cell phone number and left a message on her voice mail. I apologized
abjectly and asked if I could anything to make amends. I didn't hear back for 3
days and left another message. The following Sunday, I showed up in front of the
Cheevers’ house and left another message. After 6 hours, she never showed up, so
I returned the following day, but parked a block away. Again, I didn't see her
enter nor leave. The day after, I watched her pull up in a Jaguar and a man half
my age got out of the car and opened her door for her. She kissed him gently on
the cheek and went inside.
I waited a few minutes after he drove away and rang her bell. When she answered
with a smile, the look on her face was indescribable. Her smile, and her color,
drained completely. "Brandon, you animal. you filthy degenerate animal. How
DARE you! if you're not out of my face in 10 seconds I'm calling the cops.
10-9-8-7-6..." That's all I needed. I thought about pleading my case, but all
that came out was "bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbut my cage. My cccco..."
But I interrupted myself and ran down the block toward my car. I was devastated.
I tried to wank every other hour for a week thinking of her. But it was useless.
I couldn't even get fully erect in that god damn cage. Finally, on the seventh day,
a package arrived on my doorstep. It was the butt plug from the X-rated store: an
unusual-looking, and extremely large, butt plug with nasty-looking teeth at the base.
The package also included instructions from my teen goddess. "Brandon, if you still
want me and value our time together, you'll grease up that plug, using only your
saliva, and shove it in your worthless asshole. Then you'll meet me at Athena's
on Saturday night at 7:30pm sharp. I want a nice dinner and a fine bottle of wine.
But most of all, I want to hear your apology."
Needless to say, I was there with bells on. Not exactly bells, but a cock cage
and a butt plug, one that dug into my anal ring with angry incisors. When I
arrived, I gingerly sat at the table and waited patiently. It was painful and
she was over a half hour late. But what walked thought the front door took my
breath away. My cock bobbed in its plastic prison, and my sphincter gripped the
plug as my weight shifted and pressed hard onto its bare teeth. I stood up to
greet her and she looked absolutely ravishing. Her honey-blonde hair fell
loosely around her pretty face and her ivory dress and ivory leather
slingback heels gave her slim figure an elegant carriage. She couldn't have been
more than a 34B. Her slender legs seemed longer than they ever had and I was
literally drooling by the sight. After we took our seats, she immediately
slipped off her leather slingbacks and casually played with my caged cock with
her pink-tipped porcelain-delicate toes. The teeth in the plug dug in harder
around the periphery of my anus as I whimpered. "Ooooh baby, you okay? Why don't
you go to the bathroom and freshen up," she cooed. I complied and when I rearranged
myself, I noticed there was a ring of blood in the seat of my underwear. I informed
princess about it when I returned to our table and she told me that I'd need a
panty liner since that plug would be a regular part of my ensemble from now on.
After we placed our order and she asked for an expensive bottle of Merlot, my
teenaged temptress excused herself and went to the Ladies Room. When she
returned, she just casually smiled at me and pulled out a small vial of amber
fluid and emptied it into the wine glass in front of her. When our waitress
shortly brought out our Merlot, she asked about the "white wine" in the middle
of our table. "Oooh don't worry, that's just Brandon's special elixir," she told
her. She moved it toward me as if our waitress seemed to understand. She poured
her a glass of Merlot, and my "date" made a toast. "To us, to a long and
satisfying relationship...... satisfying for me, anyway," she giggled and we
drank.
It was painfully obvious what I was drinking. It was my goddess' pee. The look
in her eyes told me to swallow it down quickly and without hesitation or
complaint. All the while she rubbed her cute toes along my caged shaft and told
me how handsome I was. I repaid the compliment and she immediately jabbed a big
toe into my bloated balls, doubling me over. "NEVER EVER speak unless spoken to,
YOU HEAR ME, boy?" I nodded, and winced, as we continued dining. Then she asked
for my apology and I blubbered something incoherent even though I had practiced
it for days. The gist was that I'd promise to do ANYTHING to make it up to her.
That just made her smile mischievously and lick her lips suggestively. After I
paid the bill, we left and I drove her home.
"If you think we're even you're wrong, dead wrong, boy." She lead me back to her
bathroom and repeated the process from the week before: stripping me and
latching me to the toilet. "This time, if you don't eat the ENTIRE contents of my
wastebasket, you're going to cease to exist for me. Not only will that cage
never come off, but if you ever show up here again I'll call the police and have
you arrested on charges so vile you'll never see the light of day. Understand?"
I nodded and she left me there padlocked to her toilet all night long to eat her
refuse. I was addicted to something worse than heroin. No treatment center could
help me. No drug could wean me. My life had entered a zone that had consequences
too frightening to imagine. It was frightening because I entered it with open
arms. But as I opened up to it, it closed all around me. As I looked into the
wastebasket and took a deep breath, she opened the door, surprising me.
"Brandon, I almost forgot, one more thing." She squatted down as her hair
tickled my face and her scent drove my cock into its hard plastic prison and my
anal muscles flexed against its intruder. She fiddled with my cage and I heard a
"click." When she was through, she kissed me on the tip of my nose and pinched
my cheek. "Thank you Brandon, for being mine." When she closed the door behind
her, I looked down at my imprisoned organ. She had attached a metal dog tag. It
was engraved. I took hold of it and turned it so the light shone properly on the
inscription. "PROPERTY OF GODDESS ANNABETH." I sighed. I belonged to a girl
named Annabeth. Goddess Annabeth. I smiled contentedly and stuck my hand in the
basket, pulling out...... a used tampon.
