Inspired by [100 word story], a writing website that features original flash fiction and monthly photo prompts, I penned “Taking the Piss out of Me”, a 100-word flash fiction that depicts the dynamic between a captive and her jailor. This tale is not meant to sensationalize or titillate (though I can’t control the effect it will have on you). Truth be told, I have entertained a morbid fascination with predator-prey power-plays ever since I can remember.
Call the shrink. 😉
“Taking the Piss out of Me”
He unchained me so I could take a piss on the floor. I wondered what was the point — after all, he could have made me soil myself where I sat. Likely, he teased me with the toy of freedom just to snatch it back; watch me crack.
Nostrils flared in disgust, he mopped up the coffee-drenched humid stench of my dense urine.
I bared my teeth. “Choke on it.”
To my dumbstruck dismay, he reached between his legs and gave his weapon of choice a lazy tug. It twitched; thickened.
Oh, I realized. So that’s how it is.
In your vivid imagination, what happens after the captor reveals his “weapon”? My mental TV conjures the following scene: captive bites off captor’s manhood, and escapes with the perp’s balls hanging around her neck — a trophy, if you will. A testament to her triumphant survival.
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Thank you for reading.
PS — No, I don't hate men. But I do loathe the actions of the ones who use their “power” to exploit and victimize others. The same goes for female perpetrators.