A short flash piece - written in twenty minutes. Enjoy
I awoke in darkness, as I had for days.
Days? Could it really be days?
My body jerked, instinctively, but each time I came to it was weaker. Energy was finite and I had less and less of it as time wore on. I couldn’t move my limbs individually - they were too tightly strapped to my body, arms pinned to my sides and ankles to each other. My bindings crinkled, and I had no idea what it was made of.
I tried, as always, to call for help, but I knew it was useless. My mouth was firmly strapped shut, I guessed with tape of some kind. Not a simple strip over the lips, but some kind of jury-rigged muzzle, around my whole jaw, back of the neck and secured on my cheeks. My jaw ached and I know there was sweat and itching, but there was nothing I could do, except pray my nose didn’t become blocked.
I didn’t know how big the room was. I tried to guess from the echo of my struggles and whimpers - muffled as they were behind the tape. The sound bounced back to my ears, and I heard how pathetic I must be. A little worm wriggling on the floor, unable to move.
I’d pissed myself at some point. Several points, actually. I could fill it spread in my pants and puddle beneath me. Starting warm and getting colder. The first time I cried. The second time I whimpered. By the fourth I was silent, accepting that it had to happen.
I was thirsty. I was hungry. I called out for help again. No one came.
I awoke in darkness, but then I became blind. Light seared into my head and I winced, clenching my eyes shut and turning my bound body away. A door had opened - closer than I could have imagined it was.
I had waited to see this. To see my captor, but with the piercing white I was senseless.
Hands grabbed me, yanked me from this prison. As my vision started to return, they seemed to anticipate it, and with a gasp my head was plunged into something tight that was cinched at my neck. Images of a thousand kidnap scenes flashed in my head, and I dismissed them as fantasy… only to remember what had happened to me.
My carriers did not speak as they shifted me. I must have been carried a hundred meters or so, set down and shoved, like I was being tucked away in something.
One of them did grunt as his hands brushed my crotch, muttered something about ‘piss’ and smacked my crotch enough to send pangs of pain through my balls and right up into my gut.
Knowing he was there, knowing he was aware of me as a person, I tried pleading again. To no avail.
I awoke in darkness. The bag was still on my head, but there were more voices now. Indistinct, catching only a few words. “Installation”. “At last.” “For the best”.
Once again I went to scream, but I found something new in my mouth.
The tape was gone - for a moment my heart swelled, excited, ready to cry out, to beg, whatever it took. But my words were still muffled, and my jaw hurt even worse.
My mouth was trapped around something. With my tongue I probed and I realised it was a tube of some kind.
I didn’t have time to really understand the horror.
It took a few seconds before I felt the liquid pouring into my mouth. Relief flooded through me. At last, water. In my terror I never really considered how parched I must be.
It took a few more seconds to realise it wasn’t water.
It was acrid, it was bitter, and I knew deep inside that it was piss.
I knew I couldn’t spit it out. There was only one choice. I gulped, and gulped and still it came. I knew I was crying again, I knew I was screaming and choking but still I drank.
At some point, they were merciful. Real water followed the piss - or at least, very watery piss. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything now. Thoughts weren’t making sense anymore. I almost couldn’t remember where I’d been when they grabbed me.
I did not scream this time. I had become used to it.
My situation had changed again…
My bonds were different, and I felt something strange around my body. Something encompassing, like a tight grip on every part of me. Like a condom, tight to my skin. Memories of porn flashed in my head. Of tight bags, of black latex, with squirming bodies inside of them.
My arms were still trapped, and my legs, and the hose was still in my mouth.
I drank. Water, piss, I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
“Just about done,” one said.
“They’re working out well. Lucky you got three after all.”
Three, I thought to myself, as well as I could process thoughts by this point. Were there others like me? Trapped, cocooned, guzzling piss and who knows what?
I listened to their indistinct voices, unable to do anything. I didn’t even bother to mumble anymore. I hadn’t made a noise in days, I don’t think. What was the point?
It awoke in darkness, if you could call it waking.
It had no thoughts. Not anymore.
For some time it had, idle fantasy. Idle wishes. But none had come true, and the thing in the box and the sleepsack and the tubing had stayed where it was.
It awoke in darkness and it did what it was made for.
Men walked above it. Some knew it was there, most didn’t. None cared.
It awoke in darkness, and it stayed in darkness.
baratheonpilled
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
janainaart
germansingergirl
