you either get inside that room and have your picture taken, or you can stay in the car with me and I’ll take it out on trade!”
Wizard started to undo his belt but stopped as Marcie quickly reached for the door.
“I’ll wait and give you a ride back after. Don’t try and fuck with me! I’ll be watching! Oh, and give him this,” he said, handing her a small flap of folded paper.
Marcie walked up to the cabin but glanced back at the man in the car. A street light cast shadows on his face, but she could see his goatee and knew he was watching. She knocked on the door.
She noticed the curtains move, and a man’s voice said, “Come in.”
Marcie opened the door and stepped in. The only light in the room was dim and came from a table lamp. She saw the man standing at the back of the room beside the bedroom door. He was wearing a mask of President Bush and had on a jogging suit.
“Lock the door!”
Marcie fumbled with the latch and locked the door.
“You’re late!”
“Sorry, it wasn’t my —”
“Shut up! No talking! I don’t want you to talk at all!”
Marcie swallowed but didn’t speak. From the sound of his voice, she guessed he was slightly older than her own dad.
“Take off all your clothes and sit on the sofa and wait.”
Marcie could feel her body shaking. She glanced toward the locked door but then thought of the man in the car.
“Hurry up! Are you trying to make me angry?” the man yelled.
“No, mister,” Marcie replied.
“I said no talking! Now take ’em off!”
Marcie thought about what the man with the goatee had said. He was the type who only looks. It made sense. He didn’t want her to undress in the bedroom. She placed the paper packet on the coffee table and started to take off her clothes. Her hands were shaking and she had trouble with the buttons on her shirt.
“You are a young one, that’s real gooood.”
She finished undressing and looked back at the man.
“Turn the light off and sit down!”
Marcie flicked off the light, plunging the room into darkness, then sat on the sofa and drew her knees up to her chest. The man grunted something and went into the bedroom.
She could hear him muttering. A few minutes later she heard the bedroom door open and close, then he walked in and turned on a lamp. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she gawked up at him.
He was wearing only socks, shoes, and his plastic mask. He was a thin man with wavy black hair. There was no hair on his chest and his skin was creamy white. When she saw what he was carrying in his other hand, she bit her lip and began to tremble.
It was a leather leash attached to a choke-chain collar — the kind used to control large dogs.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch you,” he said in a quiet, soothing voice. “Let me move the hair back from your pretty face a bit.” He gently stroked her hair with his fingers.
Marcie quivered and drew her knees tighter to her chest.
“There, that’s a good little bitch. Sit still … that’s a girl.”
Without warning, he slipped the chain over her head.
“Mister? What —”
Her words were choked off as he savagely jerked the end of the leash and wrapped a loop of it around his fist. The chain bit deep into her neck as he dragged her onto the floor.
“Bad bitch! I told you to keep quiet!”
He squeezed the collar tight while whipping the end of the leather leash across her body with his other hand. She twisted and turned, her legs writhing as she clawed at the chain. Her fingernails broke and the jagged remains gouged her throat as she frantically fought for air.
The pain started to go away. She realized she was still lying on the floor and the collar had loosened. Her lungs sucked in air and she gulped it down like water. She began to sob, but the air exploded from her lungs as the toe of his shoe struck deep into her stomach.
“You’re not at all trained, are you? You need lessons!”
He jerked on the leash and began to walk and drag her behind him. She started to get to her feet but he yanked down on the leash, bringing her to her hands and knees.
Her scream was cut short by a kick to the side of her rib cage. The pain tore through her chest. Each breath she took caused more pain. She stayed on her hands and knees, looking down at the floor. She opened and closed her eyes, trying to see through her tears.
This isn’t happening! It’s my body, but it isn’t me! It’s only a dream! It has to be! He’s moving again … I have to keep up. It hurts so much to breathe … this isn’t a dream!
“That’s right, bitch! Walk on all fours!”
He started walking her back and forth and around the coffee table, then stopped.
“Heel!” he said, barking out the command.
Marcie stayed quivering on her hands and knees. He slapped her thighs with the leash and said, “On the floor!”
Marcie sat back on her heels.
“Keep your hands on the floor,” he snarled.
Seconds later, he started walking again, leading her on her hands and knees.
Marcie was breathing deeply. She could taste the dust rising from the carpet as it found its way into her eyes and down her nose and throat. Her arms and knees burned from being dragged across the rug. Then he patted the floor beside the sofa and said, “Lie down!”
He sat on the sofa for a few minutes, only to get up and jerk her around the room on the leash again and again.
Eventually he seemed to tire of the ritual and turned on the television. He sat on the sofa to watch. Marcie stared blankly out into the room. Her brain seemed to be turning off and on. This is all a nightmare. Wake up!
She watched him open the paper packet on the coffee table and tap out two lines of sparkling white powder. He got down on his knees beside her and turned his back to her and slid his mask up on his head. She could hear the sound, like a pig, as he placed a finger alongside his nose and snorted the cocaine. She turned her head as his bare ass touched her face. He then pulled the mask down and turned and patted her on the head before settling back on the sofa. She sensed that he was smiling at her from behind the mask.
She could feel the swelling in her throat and the burning sensation where the sweat running down from her head found its way into the open wounds around her neck.
He
