Winner of Flash fiction entry 9/03 |
"It's not about sex, it was never about the sex" The man in the pinstriped suit squatted before him, brown eyes boring into him as he attempted to hold his gaze. Saze shifted his eyes to the corner wall, fixating on a yellow stain that looked suspiciously like urine. The man shook his head in mock disappointment, his single braid swaying like a pendulum in those grandfather clocks she used to like. He leaned forward and smiled sadly at Saze, "really, you have to believe me, it was never about the sex, you understand that don't you?" He paused, as if awaiting Saze's response- not that Saze could do much responding at the moment. The ropes binding his limbs chafed, as the leather collar he said he'd bought specially for her, tightened around his throat- it was meant for a smaller neck after all. He focused on the urine stain once again, if only to take his mind off the maniac currently staring at him and the constant flow of saliva streaming from the holes in the ball gag tied around his mouth. The man swung his braid once again in a grotesque parody of a woman's flirtatious gesture, got up, removed invisible flecks of dust from his Armani suit and strode towards the metal door. Saze watched as he paused at the handle, turning around to give him a final baleful stare- "It was never about the sex, you know, but for what it's worth, she'd already sold her soul to me the moment she offered you up as a sacrifice instead of her, so much for family eh?". And with that he opened the door, and shut it with a quiet clang, leaving Saze to ponder the yellow stain on the wall once more. |