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The sun was beating down on my pale body. Rick told me he'd be back and he went inside. I heard a car coming down the road. I got nervous but the car kept going ... luckily it couldn't see me from the road. Rick came out with a horse whip. My body shook and fear took over. I began to beg as Rick turned on the camera. He didn't respond to my pleas. He walked in front of me and touched my body with the black whip. *Twack* I cried out,not in pain but more surprised as he struck my chest. It left a mark on my pale hairless chest. *Twack Twack* Rick struck my thights. I cried out again. Tears formed in my eyes. Rick put the whip under my tip and raised it up. *Twack* he struck my tip. I sobbed and tried to pull free from my bonds. The plywood board shook but was well anchored to the ground. I begged for him to stop. Rick didn't even act like he heard me. He looked me over, walked in front and without warning *Twack!* He swung upward between my legs and branded my ball sack. It felt like. On the recesses of my memory I catch a fleeting image. A single brief shape.A grouping of circles.My body shudders suddenly from the cold of the room and my sweat-covered body. At least that's what I tell myself. Tossing off the sheets and climbing out of bed I decide to go for a midnight jog.Well, not quite midnight, but whose counting?The cool night air feels much better on my mind and skin than I'd thought and my fears eventually drift away. All, that is, save one.That damn grouping of circles. I find myself staring at generic patterns in an attempt to make some sense out of it. The Martins' mailbox post and its wrought-iron rings. The Thompsons' doorknocker. All are subtle reminders of that image, so that eventually I find myself anxious to once again crawl back into the sanctity of my bed and try and forget the dream.Entering the apartment-complex parking lot I throw my arms above my head and walk around in a slow circle so that my blood can settle down for a bit before I make.
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