Rating:
Pairing: Brian/OC (a toaster)
Description: This is, no doubt, the stranger story I have ever written, lack of sleep being my only excuse.
Brian was all dressed up, his make-up perfectly applied, his hair plastered in place, but he had nowhere to go. He sunk down on the couch and idly flipped through the TV channels, for the fourth time in about 20 minutes. He was so bored. Being off tour and at home in a small London suburb made him very restless. Stef was off in the US visiting friends and Steve was spending time with his daughter and girlfriend and all of his other friends were busy or weren't home or whatever. THe weather was horrible and the bar wasn't open yet. He switched the TV off and looked at his records, nothing seemed to fit his mood, he'd listened to them all a million times. He didn't want to go shopping without anyone to show his pontential purchases to, he'd read his few books so often he could quote passages from them, he'd seen all videos at the rental store at least once, the good ones several times. He wandered around his house aimlessly, finally landing in a chair in his kitchen with a sigh. What he really needed was a mate, a lover, someone he could call on to just talk, someone he could hang with and not feel the need to go out and do anything, someone who was more than just one night stand. His dull throb in his cock seemed to be a permanent reminder of his loneliness. He repeatedly banged his forehead on the table in frustration.
"Master, what's wrong? Do you need some toast?" An electronic voice piped up.
"NO." He glanced at the toaster sitting on the counter.
"Toast will make you feel better." It had come to life, its motor warming up.
"No thanks, I'm not hungry."
"Why don't you ever want toast?"
"Because I don't ever need any." He was tired and the small appliance was grating on his nerves.
"You go away for so long and when you finally come back you completely ignore me. Please have toast at least once."
"I don't fucking like toast." His voice started to rise and wavered.
"Then why do you have a talking toaster? I can make it dark and burned to a crisp or I can make it light. While, on the lightest setting you could stick your hand inside and not get burnt. And toasted pasteries? I'm perfect for..." Brian cut it off.
"You were a fucking gift. Now will you just shut up?" He practically screamed at it.
"Why, I'm even extra wide for bagels, fat waffles and English muffins."
"I don't want any goddamn things toasted, OK? Don't make me come over there and unplug you!"
It began to sniffle and sob. Brian threw a magazine at it, knocking it dangerously close to the sink. This made it cry harder. Trembling with anger, Brian slowly pushed himself up, the need to vent all his frustrations on something overtaking him, the annoying toaster being a perfect victim. He yanked the plug out of the wall, oblivious to its pleas and promises to quit bothering him. He was about to smash it against the wall, when an interesting thought crossed his mind. Extra wide slots, huh?
Perfect width, a little shallow, but damn close. He set the toaster back down and replugged it in, pressing the lever down, flipping the 'darkness' knob to the lightest possible setting.
"Oh, good! You didn't smash me! And you want some toast ! What a lucky day."
Brian just giggled as he unzipped his pants. What could only be described as fear crept into the toaster's voice as it realized Brian wasn't gonna put bread in it.
"Master, I don't think this is a good idea."
"Shut up." Brian growled, rubbing his shaft, making it harden in his hand. "Or I'll turn you off for good."
The toaster was torn between wanting to be used and being scared for his owner's safety.
"This could be considered rape, you know."
"I said shut up." Brian's hand shot out toward the plug.
"OK! OK! I'll be quiet."
Brian slowly sunk his cock into the slot. It felt sooooo good, so warm, just like a tight ass. He thrust faster, making the springs inside squeak and the wires rattle. The toaster muffled his cries, glad to at least be turned on again. Brian was thrusting in and out very fast, his white fingers gripping the black metal, his mind was a blur, coherant thoughts slipping away. He didn't even notice as his hand bumped against the darkness knob, switching from barely light brown to burnt crispy black. He didn't even hear the toaster's warning. His orgasm overtook him and his cum burst into the toaster, only as his orgasm swiftly subsided did he noticed that his cock was burning and not with ecstasy. He pulled out, his member was bright red, already beginning to blister.
"OHMYGOD" he shrieked, rushing to the sink, turning the cold water on full blast, dousing his scorched flesh. He had never been in this much pain in his life before, that icy water didn't even seem to faze the searing sting at all. Behind him, a sizzling pop-pop sound started to eminate from the toaster and it began to shake, the computer's voice panicking and crying for help, then it went silent, a few long seconds later it suddently blew up, covering the wall and counter with black soot, but Brian had a much more pressing problem. He stood there for what seemed like days, the water streaming over his cock, tears streaming down his face, causing his eye make-up to run. When the fire had finally cooled down a little, he gingerly smeared aloe all over it and wrapping it in gauze. "Oh fuck what have I done?' he said aloud. How was he supposed to pee? More importantly, how was he supposed to fuck? It would take days, maybe even weeks to heal. He couldn't even go two fucking days without at least a hand job, how could he last weeks? He sat down on the edge of his bed, extremely careful not to bump his tender dick.
He let out a long, low, painful groan and flopped backwards when something very scary flashed into his mind, something that pained more than his charred cock ever did. How was he going to explain this to Stef and Steve? Just then the doorbell rang, Stefan's voice sang out 'Bri-AN! Tis me! I have returned early and I come baring a gift of Ste-EVE!" This was, no doubt, the worst day of his fucking life.
THE END
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