The sky is pitch black when I shoot up in bed. My body is covered in sweat but I am shivering and cold. The nightmare was so vivid, almost real. It comes back to me in flashes. Like in a storm, how the lightening reveals everything for a brief moment. And then all is dark again.

I see a house in a small town I don’t recognize. A man in black grinning evilly as he throws me to the floor, tapes me up, and yanks my underwear off. My friend tyler is in the bathtub moaning and convulsing with mouth taped and shirt over her head. There is nothing I can do to help her. I can’t even help myself.

I see myself alone, belted down to a card table, trembling in fear. He stands above. Smoking. Watching. Deciding what to do now, what the next torture will be. The heat of his cigarette warms me when he nears. My skin is hungry to feel its burn. He touches it down to my breasts. Softly at first, then harder, so that red dotted rings appear around my nipples. Then he drags it slowly down across my stomach and presses it firmly into my clit. I moan and scream in ecstasy.

I am staked out with arms and legs spread wide and back arched over a thick, round log. Eyes closed, body motionless and drenched with oil. Exhausted and unable to struggle, I am nothing but a lifeless, slimy mass of flesh, an ornament for his lawn.
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