Stalker Love Story, Part Two: Cardboard Heart

            Sunday afternoons always moved a bit slower than the other days. It was the only day of the week when Arthur didn’t do much. He would sit, watch television, surf the net. It was a lazy day and I could appreciate that. Seeing him contented with everything made me feel warm inside. It was as though we shared a connection of feelings. Plus with him doing little to nothing I was free to take some free time of my own to update my scrapbook, maybe look back at some older entries and laugh at how much things have changed and evolved.

            After the exciting events of Saturday’s beach trip I felt I needed a day of rest, to compose myself. I just lay on my bed with the pictures. I have the few dozen nice ones spread across me. I know they’re just pictures but at this point it’s more of a comfort thing. I can’t be relaxed without them, it’s somewhat pavlovian. But the one I don’t put on me, but rather hold up, just for the immediate sensory satisfaction, is the one I have deemed perfect. When it came to my creativity it was never a shock that Arthur would act as a muse. But there was a single crystallising moment, when staring at his sweet figure dawned inspiration for the most ingenious innovation of my passion for Arthur came to me. I knew what I could do with the picture.

            I sent a copy of the picture off to a specialist printer. Still not wishing to raise any eyebrows I say it’s for a gag gift as part of a stag party, something believable that could be laughed off. But with every joke or white lie there is always a kernel of truth. Maybe someday if there comes a time where our love can be accepted by everyone maybe we will get together and have our storybook love. And then I really will have this gift as part of a stag party. But dreams can remain dreams while I await reality to unfold and bring its great treasures.

            It took almost a week for the order to be fulfilled. Each passing hour, while still loving my day to day routine, I still had something in the back of my mind that I was still waiting for greatness. It had its upside and downsides. The upsides being that the suspension made every moment tenser and even more intense. The further through the week I got the more I worried that it would not arrive. The downside being that I became mildly distracted. There were time when I felt as though I was missing a moment with Arthur because I wasn’t quite there. But eventually everything came to fruition. Saturday morning I found my package downstairs. I took two steps at a time to get back to my apartment. Slamming the door shut behind me, I tore apart the thin box and plastic covering to reveal him. Cardboard Arthur.

            Day one. I barely even touch him. Once removing him from the packaging I gently lay him across my bed. My apartment was such a mess I couldn’t let him see it this way. I clean dishes, wash the sink, mop the floor. Once everything is in shape I realise I need a space for him. I could rearrange the shrine, but it’s beautiful the way it is with Arthur’s baby picture being the centrepiece. Plus putting cardboard Arthur next to a naked flame is something I would never want to risk. After much inner deliberation I decide that by my bed is the best place for him. Propped up against my mattress, I get to gaze into his shimmering waistline as I drift off into sleep.

            Day two is where things really take off. This was the closest I had ever gotten to actually touching Arthur. Needless to say that’s where my sexual lusts overtook my senses and I ravished him. It was dry and a little uncomfortable but it got the job done. So long as I could stare deeply into his eyes while I pleasured myself I could live in a world where I heard his voice coming from the cut-out. He moaned and squealed at every right move I made. Things became so immersive that I led myself to believe that I was touching his skin. Mostly soft but sometime rugged and weathered in all the right places. It was the most exhausting of all the days I used him but it was also the most fulfilling. And I was glad I got it over and done with early in the process.

            I didn’t eat much while I had cardboard Arthur. Half of any of the food I made I gave to him. I wanted to be cute and romantic about it but it just made an even worse mess than there already was. The next few days seemed to blur together. I don’t remember everything that happened but I remember the essentials. At one point I had him spanking me. He was shouting and he told me how bad I was being. I think he used too much force because he literally broke his arm off in my ass. His elbow bent too much and became loose. N=But it was nothing a little duct tape couldn’t fix.

            I also remember one day feeling particularly maternal. It slit a small opening on his face to use as a mouth hole. I proceeded to spend the next few hours breast feeding him. The opening wasn’t very wide and it began to cut into my nipples. I remember thinking to myself that this was the real pain of a mother, so I started to cry. I covered his face with my tears and blood. It was only the next morning when I realised the kind of mess that I had just made. My poor Arthur was covered in almost every bodily fluid that I had.

            It had been almost a week since I got him. I decided that the best way to deal with his filth was with a shower. I was so deluded that I didn’t even see him a cardboard anymore. And I didn’t occur to me what bringing cardboard Arthur into the shower would do. Covered in stains and limbs bent and twisted, it was better this way. There was a certain extent of closure that I got from sitting in there as I watched my temporary love grow soggy and dissolve onto me.

            But with great loss also came great gain. It was only minutes of grief before I realised how bad he was for me. I was distracted. For what could have been a week, not that I could tell with the delusional state I was in, the real Arthur could have been doing anything. It was time for things to get back to the way they were. It was time for me to return to my nice normal life.