FFF: You said what!

Key Words: innocent, guilty
Banned Words: Any word with the letter “z” in it
Word Limit: 350 words

We blamed the red hair for her temperament; long strands of fire that twisted into gentle curls of unyielding behaviour. We attributed her aggressive and uncompromising demeanour on her Celtic upbringing, but it didn’t change anything. Her actions toppled the centuries-old University League of Upstanding Gentlemen’s Society at their Annual Ball.

There was shame, embarrassment and humiliation.

I felt the hushed whisperings as I walked around campus, heard the tales and the exaggerations. But she was a total legend.

And in this sorry saga, I was a mere innocent. She had said nothing as I dressed in my halls of residence that evening, smiling at me and giggling as she adjusted my black tie. There was no hint of the mountain of trouble to come, as she licked her lips. “Why does it have to be black tie?”

“Tradition,” I replied. “Anything else would be wrong.”

“You and your silly rules,” she teased; the borderline Marxist had little respect for the long-held customs of the upper class. “Going to fag a junior, are you?”

I ignored her pointed barb, and had a wonderful evening of expensive food with my fellow “Upstanding Gentlemen,” until my fiancée arrived, bursting into the room and walking onto the stage.


FFF_0123Except for a black bow-tie.

The room hushed, my heart chilled. “Get out,” someone shouted as I slunked in my seat. “Your chairman,” she shouted as her eyes scanned the hall. “Is guilty of a threesome with two member’s girlfriends. A cheating scoundrel. A traitor to you all.” She clicked her fingers as an accomplice at the side of the hall turned on the giant projector and a video of my fiancée, another girl and our upstanding chairman filled the screen.

Carnal activities: thrusting and grunting, crying and squealing as he pounded the cunts of the two women. The shamed man ran from the room, chased by another. There was trouble afoot.

But my fiancée and I: we have an open relationship. I walked to the front of the banquet, held out my arm and led my filthy woman away for an evening of rampant debauchery.

“Nice outfit,” I teased as we left.

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s black tie.”

Flash Fiction Friday

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