I struggled to sit from the awkward position I was in. Locked somewhere in between laying and sitting. It was very uncomfortable. I did not like it. Or … Maybe I did like it?
I wiggled a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position. No good. Jostling back and forth, I rocked myself until a metallic clang sounded, bringing me just slightly more upright. Yes. Now this was better. I shrugged, content with the slight change.
Unable to remove the sleep from my eyes I gave myself a little shake and pondered as to why I was strapped naked to a La-Z-Boy. These things just don’t happen you know. Or maybe … They do?
Who am I to judge?
I glanced about the room, curious. It was not my bedroom, though the weird, comfy torture chair kind of gave that away. The room was simple, bare. There was one window, set high in the room, that allowed a stream of light.
And then there was the chair I was in and a table covered with glittering objects. I made a quick realization. God, I was in someone’s weird fetish dungeon!
I shivered, but in a comfortable way. Seriously: this chair had fantastic lumbar support. I snuggled in. It was soft too.
As I was getting comfortable, a series of bangs alerted me to the door. It was plain like the rest of the room. Whoever was coming was making quite the noise.
From the door emerged three people. No, five? There were five. Two women and three men, and all in various states of undress.
Awkward, but I could roll with this.
They surrounded me in a loose circle, Leering down at me with a mixture of lust and anticipation, looking as if they were poised to strike. Whatever they had planned seemed to involve me.
Sure, that made sense. I was kind of like a prisoner, wasn’t I? I decided to break the ice, get that awkward “Oh no! I’m victim to a Psycho Sex Cult!” out of the way. “Oh, hey guys.” I smiled. “I would … Wave. But yunno, I’m tied down and all.” I wiggled my fingers for emphasis. They exchanged looks of incredulous puzzlement. I looked to their faces and frowned.
“Was I not suppose to do that?” I asked, unsure. “I’ve never actually been kidnapped. It’s so hard to be sure of these things. What’s the proper etiquette for these situations?” I carried on. “I’ve seen the movies. I could start screaming if you want.” They looked at me still, one woman actually leaning away, as if repulsed by my sudden banter. Maybe I should try harder? “I could go all raspy, maybe. Like, really commit to the whole victim thing. What’s your stance on snot? Not very attractive, mind you. But it makes a great visual … If you get off on that sort of thing, anyway.”
Silence. Oh boy. That’s never a good thing. The group gave each other worried glances, which was concerning, considering I was the one tied up.
“So…” I started searching for a topic. There weren’t many things one could converse about in a situation like this. Well, things that didn’t venture onto strange or uncomfortable subjects. It wasn’t like I could ask them how many people they caught and took advantage of, now could I? I mean, I could. But that would just be weird. It’d be interesting though, wouldn’t it? I wondered where I would fit into such a statistic?
This is a weird thought.
So far this exchange had been terribly one-sided. What to talk about?! Oh! The chair!
“Where did you get this incredible chair!” I beamed at the group, as I really dug into the comfort. “My back has never felt this much joy. ”
“Right!?” The younger guy piped up with excitement. “We got it from a place down on ninth. Got a great deal on it, too!”
“No kidding, I’ll definitely have to get me one. It is very relaxing. I may just stay down here forever.” I stopped, suddenly horrified. They probably had other plans. I quickly amended: “Just a suggestion, though. Not to take away from current thoughts of maiming or torture.”
The woman in front glared daggers at the young man and he coughed awkwardly before putting up his grumpy mean face. Though, I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Poor thing. We all can’t be strapped to a wonderfully comfortable chair.
“Enough.” The woman continued her voice grave and serious. I wonder if she had wrinkles from being that serious all the time? “We have come to take of your flesh. To give sacrifice to the great Demon of Debauchery-”
“Er… sorry. Did you say Demon of Debauchery?”
The woman gave an irritable sigh.“Yes.”
“Oh. Good, good. Just making sure I have the facts right. I don’t want to insult any ‘Great and Dark Force.’ I assume they get kind of touchy about titles.” The woman stared at me. She stared at me like I was the most tiring force on the earth, as if summoning forth some Dark Demonic creature took less effort than listening to me speak. I felt the need to apologize.
Also, do you know how hard it is to make quotations without hands? Um, very. You’re welcome.
“We shall take of your flesh,” she continued her lips pressed into a thin line. “To give sacrifice to the-”
“Great Demon of Debauchery. Yes, you’ve said this. Does this Demon have a name? It would seem rude to simply refer to them as Madame or Monsieur Debauchery.”
The woman growled in frustration. “We, these chosen few have been granted great power.” She pressed on speaking quickly. Choosing to ignore my question. Which was kind of rude. “We can glimpse your desires and from it: draw it within us to give to our Great Master.” She came forward seductively.
“Um… not to interrupt or anything.” I squinted at her as if trying to see where such power would come from. Her face, maybe? Inner ear? I was confused, how would someone access such a power? “But if you can really read my inner most desires then you must be mistaken.” I shrugged then added: “Not that I’m doubting you or anything.”
She threw her hands up in defeat before crossing them in a huff. “Are you serious right now?!” She demanded.
“Well, yeah.” I told her. “I mean. I’m pretty sure I know what I desire. Not that you’re not attractive or anything. Because you are. Oh boy, I’m rambling again.”
“What could you possibly want more then a orgy?!” She exclaimed. Well that was simple.
“What would I want more than an orgy that will siphon my life force to an unholy demon who feeds on sex?” I tilted my head up to ponder the question. It would have been more dramatic if I had use of my hands. But you have to go with what you’ve got, right? “Well, there are a few things. But right now I could really go for a cup of hot coffee. Yes. That’s totally what I desire most. Plus, imagine how good it would go with this chair!” I exclaimed.
“He has a point.” the young man mumbled quietly. I nodded my head at him it bobbing up and down vigorously in agreement. I looked back toward the woman who was shaking her head. Completely thrown, her mouth open slightly, as if she were struggling to find words.
“I give up.” She said finally and made a somewhat hasty retreat back the way she came.
“So, that’s a no then?” I frowned looking after her. I couldn’t help but feel dissatisfaction about the turn of events. Isn’t there, like, a last meal thing that your suppose to get before you go up to the electric chair?
Sure the situation was different. But honestly when you’re getting sacrificed to a Demon of Sex you’d expect at least a cup of coffee. Mmm, coffee. How I miss you so!
As I reclined, I allowed myself to muse about the steaming goodness as the rest of the group filtered out, leaving me to the ill lit space.
I smiled at the younger guy as he left, giving me a little wave as he went.
After they left I let out a yawn. It was rather tiring trying to pry answers out of unyielding cultists. But now that they were gone I could really ponder the more important things. Like if this store accepts credit cards. Or did they prefer cash? Maybe a down payment? Do their chairs come in red? Or would I prefer a cerulean blue?
I yawned. Alone in the embrace of the comfy goodness, thoughts of warm coffee whisked me off to sleep, where dreams of discounts awaited.