Transgressive Thursday, Prompt: Accidents Happen

Tied and Bound: When a Text Takes a Wrong Turn

Do all accidents happen for a reason?

I was done with my long term loser of a boyfriend, Karl. Trouble was, I didn’t know how to tell him. He still thought we were in love. Guys can be so dense, don’t you find?

I had just finished work and had a whole week's holiday to myself — now reader don’t forget that, it’s important — so decided I needed to tell Karl soon — it wasn’t fair on him or me. And also I wanted to relax over the next few days, not worry about having to see him all the time. But how should I break the news?

I sat down on my sofa, and decided to text my best friend, Mark. He always gave great advice.

“Hey Markie, I need help. I have to break up with Karl — How do I tell him he’s dumped? Any ideas? I don’t want to hurt him, but he’s such a bloody loser. I know he’s going nowhere. Pop over after work. Bring wine… I’ll cook pasta.”

I pressed send and went off to have a long soak in the bath.

I’d just dried myself and thrown on my silky dressing gown when the bell rang.

‘Mark, great timing,’ I mouthed to myself while I walked over to open the front door.

However, I was a little surprised to see Karl instead of Mark — standing there, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Hey babe. I thought I’d pop over with some wine. Celebrate your upcoming week away from the grind stone.”

I wasn’t sure what to say but went in with, “How thoughtful. Erm, Mark may be popping over later.” Thinking Karl would go…

“No problem, Josie. He can have a drink too.” He stated, closing the door behind him.

It wasn’t long before I’d downed a couple of large — and unusually strong — glasses of Muscadet on an empty stomach, and realised my head was spinning. Karl suggested I lay down while he cooked a meal for us. Unusually helpful.

I must have dropped off, because when I opened my eyes I was laying spread-eagled on the bed, my dressing gown — W I D E — open. Wrists and ankles tied with rope to the four corner posts, while a couple of heavy-duty cords encircled the bed completely, passing over my naked stomach, binding me tightly to the mattress.

Can you picture it?

And there standing at the end of the bed holding his phone was Karl.

“What the fuck, Karl. Is this for your gallery to feed your pervy habits?” He was always watching porn rather than looking for a job.

“No Josie… I’ve deleted all my photos of you. I just wanted to read out a text I received earlier.” He stopped and looked at me, his eyes wide and crazy, before continuing…

“Hey Markie, I need help. I have to break up with Karl — How do I tell him he’s dumped? Any ideas? I don’t want to hurt him, but he’s such a bloody loser. I know he’s going nowhere. Pop over after work. Bring wine… I’ll cook pasta.”

Once again, he paused, while I tried to disappear by willing myself to fall through the mattress. But all I could do was lay there, legs apart, boobs jiggling each time I wriggled in an attempt to test out the ties. No, I wasn’t going anywhere. Why oh why hadn’t I double-checked who I was sending the message too?

“Recognise it? So. I bought wine like you asked, but as I’m yesterday’s love, I’ll be off now.” He walked to the side of the bed, looked down at me with hate etched across his face, and then spat onto my breasts. “Your tits are too small. Your pussy’s too wide — and I ain’t talking about your cat!”

With that, he was gone.

For a moment I took a deep breath, still thinking I had asked Mark over… before I faced up to the text sending accident — and the horror and despair sank in!

'When a Text Takes a Wrong Turn' - original Fiction by May More

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