Hours passed. Nothing happened. Nothing.
The car just drove on, except for a brief stop at what must have been a gas station. Sheila reddened at the thought of the gas attendant seeing her like this. She had no way to know that the limo tint obscured her from those outside the vehicle. After all, the two men didn’t want to have to waste any bullets on busybodies. The car drove on. Several hours must have passed, Sheila thought. The anticipation frightened and excited her. There was a growing pool of her fluids on the seat that had long since overflowed onto the floor. Her thighs were covered with several layers of her own dried wetness. The car drove on.
Which was odd, since there was no driver. she looked up. Then down. Then right and then left. Finally, her eyes settled on a small picture of a thumb. Hmmmmm….
It was then that she noticed that the zippers over her eyes were open and she had lost her contacts and it probably wasn’t a thumb she was looking at.
But wait…
As the narators voice trailed off she felt herself fading into sleep. His voice was soft and deep. And he was dull, too…like that guy in the wine commercials who speaks in the constant monotone voice. At any rate…she was wet, and sleepy and hungry. If only that bratwurst…
She awoke from her dream, and realized she was still being driven somewhere. She could hear the two thugs conversing in muttered tones in the front of the car. The car stopped. She heard a door open. A hand patted her thigh. “Meowr Meow Meowr meow Meorw, Boss?”, she heard one of the thugs say.
“No, not yet”, the new man replied, “First I have to change into my sweater and sneakers”
A minute or so later, still bound in place in the seat, Sheila’s hood was ripped off. The new man said: “Well, it’s certainly a fucking lovely day in the neighborhood!” The new man had one fist up King Friday’s ass, and the other one up Lady Aberlaine’s nether regions. “The mail is never on time now, you know, and the food is awful, since Mister McFeely and Chef Brockett were killed in that terrible auto crash. But, I still find special people.” He paused. “And you know, I’m going to hurt you. Just because you’re you”
He paused again. “When allowed to speak, you will call me MASTER Rogers” A soundless cry escaped from Sheila. The hood was placed back upon her head, she heard the three men walk away, and she was left there for quite some time. Gnot him again
SHe was brought out of her sleep roughly. The hands of some ungnown person tugging at the mask which encompassed her head.
She was seated on a small chair and the mask removed. Her eyes fluttered and struggled to get adjusted to the light. She saw before her a pleasant looking man with softly greying hair and a slight smile on his face.
She watched him as he changed from his shiny leather shoes into simple deck shoes. He slipped a sweater over his head and smiled.
Hello, Im Master Rogers.
she begins to scream soundlessly behind the ball gag as she hears those dreaded words….. tears flood her cheeks as she struggles against her bonds, her juices still running.
