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You are lost in a maze.

There are big black walls and a wide grey floor.

The walls curve.

Except where you see branches, you feel as though you're in one big circular corridor.

You know you're not. Once or twice, you've followed the thin rope you've left behind yourself back to the entrance, and started again.

It takes a long time.

You're tired.

You know that somewhere, in this maze, there is a monster. It's so silent that you wonder, sometimes, if you heard him and didn't notice.

You walk through the maze.

You're lost once again.

You still don't feel scared. You have your rope.

No, you don't feel scared.

You feel excited.

What if you meet him?

They say he's taller than a man can be. That he's strong.

They say almost no one leaves.

They say that those who do leave didn't want to, but they don't remember why.

It's all a big mystery.

That's why you got your big stretch of rope. That's why you got lost.

You shouldn't have tried to find out, but you needed to find out.

And that's okay.

The maze is lit well enough, with pockets of light and pockets of shadow, and the air is clear. There are windows to the overground dotted here and there, and it's daylight out.

You're wondering why those people wanted to stay.

You realise you're breathing more heavily.

You're breathing more heavily because you smell something.

It's a strong smell, almost overpowering, but you were just going to keep breathing it and get used to it. It's a little bit like loam, a little bit like an animal, a little bit like a man.

And you wonder what it is.

So you go deeper in.

As you walk, you leave the rope behind in drips and drabs. You have a lot of it. Your route back is clear.

The smell gets stronger, and you try to speak, but you find you intensely don't want to. The silence is somehow important.

Because you hear something.

You hear breathing.

At first, you think it's the breath of someone you know, but you realise it's too slow, too deep, too loud.

You keep walking. Sometimes you take the wrong branch of the curling hallways, so you backtrack. You're excited. What's actually happening, here?

The smell is stronger.

The breathing is louder.

Then you hear it stop. It stops just before your next footstep.

You hear someone else step further in the maze. And another. Heavy, bare footsteps approach you.

You turn around.

You want to know, but you should go.

If you stay, you might not want to come out.

So you don't know what to do.

And you're still lost.

While you're overthinking, you feel a heat in the cool underground air...

He's near you.

You hear something other than steps, or breath.

You decide... To stand still.

And the monster approaches you from behind, radiating heat onto you.

You can see a shadow in front of you. He's gargantuan, and thick, and his head is not the right shape for a man, but the rest of him is.

You hear his voice. You reply. You don't know what you just said.

You feel his heat behind you, and you sweat from that heat, and you feel his hands close over your shoulders, his skin unbelievably hot, the smell almost all you can think about.

"You came on your own," the monster says.

You undo your shirt. He kindly takes it off of you, and his hands, his hot skin, lay on your shoulders.

"You brought something to lead you out," the monster says. His voice is deep enough that you feel it shake your jaw.

You say, "sorry."

The monster tells you that he forgives you, and you feel relief.

His hands creep slowly forward, over your collarbone. If he spread them out, his fingers could span your chest.

"You smell like sweat," you find yourself saying.

"So will you," the monster says, "soon."

You don't realise it, but your body knows you need to smell like him.

He's getting closer. Did you step back?

You've been unspooling your rope from its coil onto the floor. You hold it in both hands, fidgeting.

He wraps his hands around your chest, and - softly at first - he squeezes you. The pressure builds into pain. Your breath hitches.

And you step back.

You can feel his muscle and his soft skin brush your back, now and then.

You can feel his heat. His sweat is mixing with your sweat.

You can't quite feel fear.

"You're enjoying this," you say.

"So will you," the monster says, "soon."

You don't know it, but you belong to him.

"When you step back," the monster says, "I will hold you."

You close your eyes and try to stay still, but of course, he's warm. You feel his back press along yours. You feel his arms encircle you, and pull you into a hug.

Well, no.

He doesn't pull.

You stepped back.

"You can't leave me by yourself," the monster says. "You're not strong enough."

Absently, you nod.

His arms are the softest bed. His palms slide over your front, mixing your sweat even more.

His breath now comes directly above your ear. More air and moisture comes out each with each breath than a man's lungs can carry.

His hands and arms move along you. His palm and fingers run along your chin, and his arm follows, wrapping around your neck. Your mouth is almost forced closed by its size.

You yawn.

You are aroused, now. You realise this as if realising it's past time to eat. It's an aside. It's a need, but it's not as important as anything else.

Is he going to eat you? Does he even want sex? You can't really tell.

But you can, can't you? Why does someone curl their body into another's, and whisper?

"You want me," you say.

The monster says, "And you want me."

You have stepped back again, and he is hunching over you. You feel his thighs over your hips.

You can feel his penis, now, and you can smell it.

You say, "I can't take you."

"You will," the monster says, "soon."

You don't know it, but you only feel comfort, right now.

You're still thinking you should escape, you should say no, you should, you should, you should.

But your heart doesn't feel that way at all.

And his languid voice wraps around and chokes your mind.

"Open your thighs," the monster says. You shuffle your feet apart, and you can feel his penis thickening, hot and slimy, against your leg.

It slides up, and you find your legs naturally close around it...

"Good," he says, and his finger brushes your mouth. "You're smiling."

"Sorry," you say, and he laughs, breaking the spell for just a moment.

You realise that his arousal is a different smell, added to his pungency. Your scent, too, now.

You close your thighs around his cock, and feel its shape, slime, and heat. It's a good, vulnerable feeling.

"Oh," the monster says, and he looks down over you. "You're almost out of rope."

You'd forgotten.

You were fidgeting. It's almost all unspooled now, just a couple of feet in your hands.

It's your only way out. You know that.

There's no real escape from him. You don't want one.

He takes the rope. The arm around your neck pulls tight enough to strangle you, amiably, and releases.

The monster's arms and hands run along your own. You become aware of them, of your shaking, as those tremors are soothed away.

"Hold your wrists up," the monster says. You do, before you realise what he's said. It's instinct.

He runs your rope along your arms, and you watch - with him pulsing between your legs - as he wraps your wrists and arms together with your rope.

And he wraps the rope around your chest, your forearms.

"You want me to stay with you," you say.

As he binds you, you see the rope get pulled along from the earlier passages in the labyrinth.

"You'll need to stay with me," the monster says, "soon."

He doesn't know it, yet, but you already do.

Each foot of rope tied around you is a passage you'll never recognise again.

His penis is like a lit torch between your legs.

Each knot is a corner you'll never turn.

You ask him one last question.

"What are you going to do to me?"