Mindy's Mistake

Oh girl! It was stringy, lumpy, and syrupy, and chewy, all in one! And the taste! The taste of shit! Shit tastes worse than it smells! I must be one of the few people in the world who knows what shit tastes like--bitter and smoky.

At least it was so soft that I didn't need to chew it. I just swallowed it little by little until it was all down, then I took a sweet breath of cool fresh air. Then he dropped another turd into the funnel and into my mouth. This one, I swallowed right away.

I think he stood after that, because the box wobbled a little again. Then he peed once more, rinsing a few bits of shit into my mouth. At least it helped wash the taste of shit down, if just a little.

I dozed again after he left me in my misery. I awoke surprised that I could fall asleep flat on my back with a pipe jammed in my mouth. I dozed off and on during the night with the acrid taste of his shit in my mouth. Eventually, I was slept out. I lay awake for hours, not hearing a sound. Was it Monday morning now? Where was he? Oh, the boredom!

_Ah, beautiful footsteps! Give me your pee! I'm so thirsty again!_ I heard him walk up to me, then his warm pee splashed against the funnel and into my mouth. His pee was so refreshing! Am I sick?

Hours passed before he came to use me again. As the day wore on, he peed a few times, satisfying my thirst each time.

Every so often, I would moan "Ahhhhhhhh! Ah! Ahhhhhhhhh! Ah!" trying to hit upon that random Morse code safe-word that Diane told him she would use.

That evening, he dropped a pill of some kind into my mouth. It was chewy and tasted like strawberry, like a multi-vitamin. Then he gave me a squirt of piss to wash it down.

The following day, my own poo was loose and watery into that Tupperware tub under my ass. Cleaning that up serves him right!

I gradually lost count of the times I drank his pee and ate his shit. I had no idea how many days had passed, even.

The phone rang one evening (at least I thought it was evening) while he was typing at his computer in the room.

He said, "Hello?"

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"Hey Brad! What's up?"

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Really?"

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"Yeah, the cops came around here a few days ago, too; crawling through the woods behind my house all day long."

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"Yeah, I was talking to one. He said that the odds make it unlikely they'll find her alive after 48 hours. They said they'll probably close the case if they don't find her soon."

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"Then the reporters came around too."

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"Yeah, even a TV crew from Network 21 was out in front of my house yesterday."

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"Yeah! Monique interviewed me! Man, she's hot!"

"Yeah."

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"So you going with that girl? Sherry?"

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"Great!"

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"Okay. See you. Bye!"

After untold days, weeks, and months had passed, I had been subsisting entirely on his piss and shit. There was one time it sounded like he stepped up on the rim and I heard a loud "click!" A moment later, something hard and sharp fell into my mouth. He did it again, and again. I realized that he was clipping his toenails and letting them drop into the funnel and into my mouth.

I had lost count of the time that I had been built into his toilet slave machine. I hated to think what my complexion looked like. Forget my complexion, I must have been fired from my job, missed a rent payment or two, and a couple of car payments. All my other bills, too. Oh girl! My life is totally screwed!

His phone rang while he was typing at his computer again. "Hello."

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"D-D-Diane? I, I?"

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"No, I'm just really, _really_ surprised to hear from you."

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"Well, er, I suddenly seem to have a little mystery on my hands."

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"I don't know."

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"Look, Diane. This isn't a good time to talk. Can I call you back a little later?"

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"No! Nothing's wrong!"

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"I'll explain when I call you back, okay. I gotta go!"

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"Yeah, love you too, bye!"

_Was that_ the _Diane he was just talking to?_ He stepped up to the toilet and said, "You're not Diane! So who the hell is in there?"

I heard him fumble with the latches on the outside of head box next to my ear. He lifted the box, pulling that pipe out of my mouth for the first time in weeks. Sweet relief!

He looked down at me and said, "Who the hell are you?"

I coughed a few times and answered, "I'm Mindy."

"Holy shit! You're that missing girl!"

"Yeah," I answered.

"What are you doing in there?"

"When I saw your thing here. I just couldn't help myself. Are you gonna let me out now?"

He didn't answer. He just stood there staring off into space.

"Please!" I begged. "Please! You have to let me out! You have to! Please!"

He sighed. "Where do you live?" he asked.

"I live--uhm--how long has it been since your party?"

"Hmmm, a little over two months."

"Oh shit! Then I don't live anywhere. My landlord is such a jerk. He would have rented my place out by now. My car is probably repossessed. Everything I ever owned is gone. Maybe Sherry will let me live with her." I started to cry. "I don't know what do to any more."

"Mindy," he said slowly. "Everyone's looking for you. If I let you go, suddenly the police, the newspapers, and everyone is going to be into my business."

I didn't like the way that sounded. "But?" I asked.

"I can't have that."

"Please!"

"I'm sorry Mindy, but your body is now part of my machine. Permanently."

He lowered the toilet back onto my face. "Noooo!" I screamed until the pipe forced itself into my mouth again.

He gave me some pee to drink, then walked out of the room.

* END *