Oxygen Games Ch. 13

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The cab drops Rosa off on the corner and she walks the short distance home. She's wearing a hooded exercise top zipped right up to her chin, full length leggings and gloves. Hidden beneath is her new latex skin; as she walks, she can feel the suit moving against her skin, compressing her crotch, lubricated now by the moistness that's been building up between her legs since she left the gym.

When Rosa reaches her front door she pauses to calm her nerves, then she slides her key into the lock and opens the door, her stomach tingling with nervous excitement. She's been visualising her husband's face all the way home, imagining the grand reveal as she walks in and he sees his wife replaced by his latex fantasy, ready to be used by him.

Inside, Rosa closes the door quietly and strips out of her street clothes. She takes a deep steadying breath through her nostrils, drawing in the scent of new latex. For some reason, it excites her even more; she can feel how wet she is now between her legs.

The apartment is dark and quiet. She doesn't turn on the lights; instead, she moves from room to room trying not to make a sound. Rosa doesn't want to call out, she wants to appear in front of her husband like she is: a perfect, silent, glossy doll, ready for his use. The thought makes her squirm inside.

The kitchen is empty, so she tiptoes into the living room. It's also deserted. Rosa knows where he'll be and goes towards the bedroom, buzzing with excitement at the closed door. She grins to herself and grasps the handle; her stomach churns, adrenaline spiking with nerves. She wants to show him what she'll do for him, she wants him to understand. She wants him to see her and sweep her up into his arms, lay her down on the bed, and slide his thick, rigid manhood inside her, to break through all the shit and feel that instinctive, effortless connection with the man she has always loved. Her hand is trembling with anticipation as she turns the handle and opens the door.

The room is empty. Even in the gloom, she can see he's not here. Her hand goes to the light switch and she winces as the room is bathed in bright light. The bed is made, the cupboards are closed, everything is neat. Too neat. Rosa can't stop her hand from shaking as she reaches out to open the wardrobe. The door swings open to reveal an empty space: his clothes are gone.

The world rushes in on her and in a daze, she turns away, scanning the rest of the bedroom, her mind racing to make sense of what she's seeing. She can't comprehend it, where is Aidan? Then she finds the note on the bed.

Rosa stands, her body frozen, her hands coiled into fists. All she can see is the square of paper, folded neatly. She feels like she's about to faint. Her hand reaches out and her body follows, gravitating irresistibly towards the bed. She picks up the little piece of paper and, haltingly, she unfolds it to see two lines in Aidan's handwriting:

'I asked myself what good was I doing here. Who am I helping? I couldn't find an answer anymore. I love you Rosa but now I see that for you, love is not enough.'

Her vision blurs, tears forming. Her body is locked rigid as she stares at the little piece of paper, unable to breathe, feeling the prickly crawl of oxygen deprivation in her chest as she reads the final line.

'I lose, you win.'

The last flicker of fire inside her dies, smothered and snuffed out. The glossy, featureless black figure sinks slowly to its knees beneath the glare of the ceiling light, a square of paper fixed in its stiff fingers.

The apartment is silent, the rooms are empty. The spaces that once held such life, such passion, are now stilled. A lifeless plastic doll is left kneeling in a bedroom, mere flotsam discarded by the tidal wave that surged through the place, a beautiful prize uncollected by a contestant who would not return.

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[This is the end of Oxygen Games, but there is more than one side to this story. What We Tell Ourselves In The Dark begins 27th August.

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